


Deep In the Heart of Texas

by TrilliumWoods



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Animal Death, Blood and Violence, Bubba Finally Gets Lucky, But Bubba's a Good Boy, Cannibalism, Drayton's an Asshole, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, It's Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Kidnapping, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Sexual Inexperience, Slow Build, Slow Romance, There's gonna be some messed up stuff, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, eventual consensual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2019-11-08 12:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 102,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrilliumWoods/pseuds/TrilliumWoods
Summary: Takes place four days after the events of the original 1974 movie.A rookie cop new to the area, you're sent to investigate a report of murder and torture in a small town in rural Texas.  You find the answers you seek, and a whole lot more as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place strictly in the universe of the original 1974 film. I don't care for the sequels and remakes, so they do not factor into this particular story at all (except for the names, since I can't just refer to them as "Hitchhiker", "Old Man" and "Leatherface" through the entire story). Gunnar is the only Leatherface for me. ❤️
> 
> Since it is set in the 1970's, please note that there may be some language and attitudes that we consider offensive or politically incorrect nowadays. Also please note that I was not alive in 1974, nor do I live in Texas, so if I make mistakes in the timeline, culture or history I apologize! I did try to do some basic research, at least. :)

The weak stream of warm air from the electric fan on the file cabinet does very little to combat the sweltering heat of the cramped little office. That fan has seen better days, and so have you, for that matter.You try your best to ignore the sweat dripping down between your shoulder blades, instead attempting to maintain a professional air as you wait for your assignment.

"We got a weird one I want you to check out." grumbles the sheriff, not even bothering to open the report in front of him. He looks just as sweaty and miserable as you feel, his fat face red and damp like a freshly-washed tomato. "It's probably nothing, but I gotta send someone out just the same to keep those bloodhounds at the news station off our backs."

You keep your focused expression even as you lean forward just enough for your shirt to peel away from the back of your chair. If not for that thin barrier of fabric your skin would no doubt be completely stuck to the split vinyl. You've been in Texas for a year- and in this particular part for almost three months on top of that - but you wonder if you'll ever get used to this kind of humidity. At least back where you grew up the summers were dry. But unpleasant though the heavy air may be, something about the Lone Star state has always held a fascination for you that you can't quite put into words. Maybe it’s the wide open spaces, the allure of the Wild West, the child in you that always dreamed about being a cowgirl. Whatever the reason, after completing your degrees in criminal justice and abnormal psychology you followed your heart and came to the police academy in Austin, hoping to make a difference right there on the frontlines. But despite being the top of your class and boasting glowing acclaim from your instructors, finding a job had proven damn near impossible in any city you cared to live in. The economy was bad, everyone jumpy and hesitant thanks to that jackass in the White House and his multitude of scandals, not to mention the lingering turmoil of the war in Vietnam.  Some old-fashioned sexism was slowing you down as well, particularly out in the more rural areas, as more than once you’d been refused even just an interview because _“little ladies don’t belong in the police force.”_ Your radius of acceptable locations was forced to grow larger as your hunt for employment dragged on, till at last you found work in this sleepy little town that’s hardly a town at all. It’s mostly a dusty patch of pasture, trees and rusted old barbed wire fence stringing together the few farmhouses and ramshackle Mom 'n' Pop businesses orbiting the feedlot and slaughterhouse that just barely manages to keep the town alive.And the cemetery. The same cemetery that has been the hushed talk of the town ever since you arrived. Weird tales of graves being desecrated and robbed, of grotesque displays of " _art_ " made from remains left as monuments to whatever depraved urges the perpetrators were possessed by.What you wouldn't have given to study the people responsible for these bizarre acts of vandalism while you were in school ... you no doubt could have written an impressive thesis on what could cause such behavior. The police have been insisting the incidents are caused by out-of-towners, but so far they've declined to share any evidence they may have to back up those assertions with a _"rookie"_ like yourself.

The sheriff slides a thin manilla folder across the olive green metal desktop towards you and says gruffly, “Four days ago some nut job claimed she was kidnapped and tortured by three men out by the old Franklin place. Said they killed her friends, too. Sounds to me more likely those kids were gettin' up to something they shouldn't, and for whatever reason this girl could handle it. Completely hysterical, wasn't making a damn lick of sense. Probably smoking the reefer or whatever it is kids do these days."

You struggle to maintain your professional demeanor. You got into this line of work to help people, not to dismiss them as drugged up or hysterical without even investigating their claims and you’re determined to keep an open mind no matter what the report may say.At least it's a case that sounds potentially more interesting than the usual minor disputes between neighbors, public drunkeness and petty theft. You reach for the folder as the sheriff dismisses you with instructions to "do a drive by the old Franklin place and see if there's anything suspicious," adding in the next breath that he doubted there would be. "Report's full of hogwash, don't let it get to your head."You nod and pretend not to notice as he mops the sweat off his beet-red face while you start closing the office door behind you, but pause when he adds, "And don't go gettin' too nosy. Folks around here like their privacy, and there ain't no good reason to go harassing people just because some wasted kid had a bad trip and don't know what's what."

 

You don’t bother to turn on the siren or lights as you drive one of the only two patrol cars belonging to the department down the road towards the alleged scene of the crime.Any sense of urgency had been somewhat squashed by the sheriff waiting four whole days before even sending anyone out to investigate this young woman’s claims, which you find negligent to the point of being downright offensive - especially considering there isn’t exactly a backlog of open cases around here and even _more_ especially considering the extreme nature of the claims.Though the file was disappointingly sparse you’d still read it several times over before hitting the road: Sally Hardesty, Caucasian Female, Age 19.Alleged witness to one murder, that of Franklin Hardesty, Caucasian Male, Age 21, the witness's brother.Witness alleges that on the morning of August eighteenth, 1973, she and four other individuals picked up a male hitchhiker of slender build and average height (Suspect A) just south of Hicks slaughterhouse on Route 304. Suspect A proceeded to assault Franklin Hardesty with a straight-razor before being forcibly ejected from the vehicle by the other occupants. After stopping at the former residence of the witness's late grandfather the group split up, leaving the witness and her brother alone. When the others failed to return by dark the witness and her brother went out in search of them but were intercepted by Suspect B, described by the witness as a large male wearing a mask seemingly constructed out of human skin. Suspect B proceeded to murder Franklin Hardesty with a chainsaw while the witness fled the scene.Suspect B pursued her until she encountered an older male of average-to-slender height and build (Suspect C) at the Last Chance gas station and barbecue off Route 304. Witness alleges that Suspect C physically assaulted her with a broom before binding, gagging and forcing her into his truck and driving to an unknown house approximately five minutes away where Suspects A, B and C proceeded to torment her in numerous ways, including cutting her and hitting her with a sledgehammer and threatening to murder her. Witness alleges that human bones and body parts were prevalent in the room and used as furniture and decor. Witness was able to escape through a window during a struggle and fled on foot back towards Route 304. Suspects A and B pursued her.Suspect A was struck by a passing cattle truck and reportedly killed, although very little remains were discovered at the alleged location (see case file 000319). Witness was able to escape in the back of a passerby's pick up truck before Suspect B could catch up to her. The witness’s van was recovered on August twentieth, 1973.Franklin Hardesty's remains and personal affects have yet to be recovered.Witness's three other traveling companions remain unaccounted for (see missing persons files 752B, 752C and 752D).Suspects B and C are presumably still at large.”

Quite the story, but disturbing though it may be there was nothing about it that seemed to automatically scream _"hogwash"_ to you.You’d read about a case where not even twenty years ago a psychopath in Wisconsin used human remains as decor and had even sewn suits and masks of human skin, so clearly there are people out there capable of such acts.Perhaps this was the work of copycats, emboldened by the news that they were not alone in their morbid urges?Whatever the truth is, you’re determined to uncover it no matter how unhelpful your new boss is.Rather than merely driving by the old Franklin place your first stop is the Last Chance gas station and barbecue, where the witness claimed to have been assaulted and kidnapped.A short, oddly-shaped little lump of a man gets up from his chair and shuffles towards your patrol car with a rolling bucket in tow when an older gentleman exits the building and comes out to meet you.You’re not skittish, but your hand hovers nearthe pistol at your hip as you step out of the car.

“Howdy, officer, well, now what can I do for ya’?” says the older man in a friendly tone.His hair is somewhat greasy and unkempt, and his grayish teeth jut out in a slightly-unsettling grin.He seems nervous, but you can’t tell if it’s because he’s got something to hide or if it’s just a personality trait.The report you’d been given was distressingly skimpy on details, but he certainly fits the description of _“older male of average-to-slender height and build.”_ For now he is definitely on the short list for Suspect C, but as always you try to presume innocence until proven guilty.Perhaps he's just shaken up by the incident that had taken place at his business less than a week ago.You return his greeting and learn that his name is Drayton Sawyer, then introduce yourself and start questioning him in a way that makes him seem more like a potential witness rather than a suspect - people tend to respond better when not put even more on the defensive than they already are just from being questioned by a cop.Mr. Sawyer denies any knowledge of the incident, stating that he was at home asleep by that time of night.“I don't stay open after 6 PM, I'm an old man and my health ain’t the greatest.I was deep in dreamland before that poor girl came lookin’ for help around here.I’da helped her if I had been here, though, poor thing.I hope y’all catch the sick sonsubitches who done it.We have a nice little town around here, we don’t need that kinda trouble.”He snaps his fingers at the tater-tot of a man who’s been washing your windshield for the entirety of your conversation thus far, and the dirty rag is returned to the rolling bucket with an anemic splash as the little man returns to his chair to resume the important business of staring at the cracks in the pavement.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this, but can anyone corroborate your alibi?" you question and Drayton laughs nervously.

"I'm afraid not, officer, it's just me and my baby brother at home and he ain't right in the head. Poor boy's a halfwit, he can't tell ya' nothing. Can't even leave the house."

“And where exactly is home, Mr. Sawyer?” you ask. He only appears to be in his early to mid 50's so you wouldn't exactly call him an _"old man"_ , but there is an unhealthy sort of feel to his reedy body, greying teeth and unkempt appearance so perhaps he really is in poor health.The depressed economy of the area does make finding healthy food and quality medical care a challenge, especially for the less well-off, and everything about Mr. Sawyer and his business screams poverty and hardship.You worry about his so-called _"halfwit"_ brother receiving the care he may need... you'd learned plenty about the plight of the mentally retarded during your schooling, and if the breadwinner before you looks this rough then Lord only knows the condition of the invalid in his care. Regardless of whether or not the brother can act as an alibi you resolve to perform a wellness check just to ensure that he doesn't require placement in a suitable facility.

"Oh, just about five miles down the way," Drayton answers rather vaguely, and your suspicion heightens when he quickly changes the subject. "I got some real fine barbecue inside if ya' like, best meat in Texas and I'm the best cook you'll ever find as well. Won lots of awards!" he says excitedly and tries to usher you inside, and though you have zero intention of eating anything he has to offer you follow anyway just so you can inspect one of the alleged crime scenes. Inside is just as run-down as out, but other than probably violating numerous health codes you don't detect anything suspicious. If a struggle had occurred here then it was cleaned up thoroughly and you wish you had access to a full forensic team.

You ask him about the old Frankin place and he claims not to know it, which you also find slightly odd coming from an older local, but nothing he's said or done justifies taking him into custody - at least not yet.So you thank him for his cooperation and follow the hand drawn map the sheriff had given you to the old Franklin place instead.

 

 _"Old"_ turns out to be an understatement. It's completely abandoned and in a severe state of disrepair. It should clearly be condemned, but just like the health code violations at the gas station that's outside of your jurisdiction so you make a note to report it to the proper authorities later.You find nothing out of the ordinary for several long minutes and are about to leave when you suddenly see it: something dangling from an empty doorway. When you look closer you discover what looks like a crude windchime... then your eyes go wide when you realize it's made of bones held together with wire. You're no expert, but the bones look like they could be human and your mind wildly runs through that nearly-useless report you'd been given and the stories of grave robberies and desecration.You have yet to see one of the grotesque statues that occasionally appear in the cemetery in person, but you've seen photos and this morbid windchime was most definitely crafted by the same hand.Your own hand now goes to your gun as you do one more thorough inspection of the house and grounds, but you find nothing else unusual so you put on some gloves and remove the windchime, placing it in an evidence bag before getting back in your car. Your next goal is to find the house where Sally Hardesty claims to have been taken and tortured, and locate Drayton Sawyer's residence as well - and then determine if they are one and the same.

It doesn't take long. Not two miles down the road you come to another farm house, and while still old and a little bit shabby this one is clearly lived in and shows signs of pride of ownership. The grounds are a mess in that typical rural way, where nothing is ever disposed of in case it might come in handy someday: old cars, rusty truck and tractor parts, other bits of farm implements, makeshift sheds and what looks like old hand-built chicken, pig and dog pens fill the yard.There's what looks like a ratty blue tarp staked up like a tent that you assume is covering firewood, or perhaps it's a child's fort since there are tin cans and other bits and bobs dangling by string from the scraggly bare branches of a small tree nearby.The rumble of a generator drones on from one side of a nearby shed and the large windmill screeches metal-on-metal in the weak breeze of early evening. Though it appears perfectly normal thus far, something about this place makes your hair stand on end and you keep one hand on your gun in its holster as you walk up the front steps and onto the porch. The center of the front door is boarded up with a large piece of plywood and there is no doorbell or nameplate. You open the screen door to knock.

"Sheriffs deputy, open up!" you holler, then wait a few moments before doing it again. There is no reply and you pound on the door and call out a third time, but still no one comes. You try not to assume the worst. It's not quite 5 PM so they could be at work - most likely at the slaughterhouse down the road that employs more than half of the town... but since the generator is running this could in fact be the Sawyer homestead and the younger brother may be inside but unable to answer you.You can't find just cause for breaking and entering but you do walk around the side of the house, looking for anything more incriminating than just a boarded up door.You keep calling out for anyone who may happen to be home, then hear the soft squealing sound of a pig.Keeping hogs certainly isn't a crime, especially not out here, but you'd read of a case where a murderer disposed of his victims remains by feeding them to his pigs and you proceed with caution towards the squealing. Then you pass by a boarded up window and hear the crunch of broken glass beneath your feet, and that plus the door is enough to make you draw your gun."Sheriffs deputy, put your hands up!" you shout out just in case, but only the pig replies. You turn around the southwest corner of the house... and hear one more loud, frantic squeal before everything goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

You wake up with the worst headache you've ever experienced in your entire life. Your whole head is throbbing and your skull feels too tight around your brain, and when you carefully crack open your eyes you begin to panic, wondering whether you've gone blind or are just being held in a pitch black room.Neither option is good and you squint into the darkness, frantically trying to make out any hint of which is the case.Then you force yourself to take a deep breath and try to relax and suss out as much of your situation as you can without the benefit of sight. You don't feel as though you've been sexually violated or physically assaulted beyond that blow to the head, thank God.You're laying down on what seems like a mattress - an old one by the feel of it, for it's somewhat saggy and springs poke against your shoulder and hip from beneath the worn-out padding.  You're covered with a thin blanket and your aching head is resting on a pathetically flat feather pillow, but despite this obvious care your wrists are bound tightly together in front of you with some kind of rope.You attempt to wiggle loose from your binds but the rope holds firm and you feel too weak to struggle for long.The room smells odd: musty and slightly rancid, and though it's not nearly as strong it reminds you of the stench of the slaughterhouse that carries for miles down the road.The air is a little bit muggy but at least it’s no longer oppressively hot and most likely the sun has at least started to go down by now.The rumble of a generator can be faintly heard from somewhere outside. Beyond that you can't tell much else, only that your mouth feels like cotton and right at this moment you would do just about anything for a drink of water.How long have you been held captive like this?You try to remember how you got here in the first place: you'd been investigating a suspicious house when out of nowhere something must have clocked you in the head.You squint into the darkness and after several minutes you think you can make out the shape of something nearby, but you're in too much pain to attempt to roll out of bed and get to it quite yet.You close your eyes again and try to will yourself to be strong, then your eyes pop back open when you hear voices.It sounds like it’s coming from below you, but it’s traveling ever closer and you hear the pounding of what seems to be footsteps going up stairs.You hold your breath and try to make out their words.

“What in the hell’re you blabbering about, Bubba?” snaps a male voice, and it sounds vaguely familiar… then you hear the blabbering he's referring to: it’s somewhat high-pitched and frantic, like someone desperately trying to explain something in a foreign language - but it's certainly no language you've ever heard.“I swear, if you've ruined something else like you ruined the door…” the angry voice continues, and it sounds like he’s right outside the room now.Just as the door cracks open it suddenly clicks in your mind who that voice belongs to... then the light switch is flipped on and your eyes snap back shut against the onslaught of brightness, but not before you catch a glimpse of your captor: the proprietor of the gas station, Drayton Sawyer.

“Ya’ damn fool, why didn’t ya’ just kill her!?” he yells, and the frantic babbling - which has been continuing in a nonstop stream - gets louder and even more frantic.You hear a repeated thunking sound and the babbler yelps with each hit, and you slowly crack open one eye, trying to adjust to the light.The floorboards creak as heavy footsteps rush towards you, then something blocks the direct light and you’re able to open your eyes properly… and find the largest woman you have ever seen in your entire life looming over you.Something is wrong with her face: it looks saggy and loose and leathery, and her skin tone is a pale, sickly yellow... and then you recoil in horror when you realize that it’s not her face at all: it is a mask, and by the looks of it a mask made of human skin.Then you realize that it’s not a woman either, but rather an absolutely enormous man.The noises he’s making are strangely high-pitched considering his size and he gestures at you with both thick, hairy arms as he looks back at Drayton.He’s wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt and an apron more suited to a housewife, and you see a decidedly feminine silver charm bracelet jingling from his left wrist.But despite this and the messy grey hair pulled up in a grandmotherly bun there is no question that he’s male and you flinch when he pulls back your blanket.He looks like he could effortlessly crush you, and if this is Suspect B - and he absolutely must be - then you know that he is mentally capable of doing it as well.

Drayton Sawyer - who is indeed Suspect C, apparently - comes up beside him and glares down at you, brow furrowed and lips pursed tightly over his teeth, but as soon as he recognizes you his eyebrows jump before furrowing again.“You whacked a cop, ya' damn fool!” he thunders, then hits Suspect B twice with a stick you’ve only just noticed in his hand.The masked man yelps and cowers at the hits, and you’re puzzled why he’s allowing someone so much smaller to beat him… but then you remember what Drayton had said about his brother being a _“halfwit”_ and despite yourself you feel a bit angry on his behalf.  “ _Now_ what’re we gonna do?We can’t kill her or more cops’ll come, and we can’t turn her loose!You shoulda just left her alone, ya’ damn bitch hog fool!"

Drayton raises the stick again and the masked man - _“Bubba”_ , if you heard correctly - flinches and pulls away, but before the blow can land you call upon all of your bravery and say stonily, “What are you going to do with me?”Pleading will no doubt get you nowhere, so instead your best hope is to try and get information out of them while scoping out the room and formulating every possible means of escape.

Both men pause and look down at you, and suddenly Drayton’s smiling nervously just like he was at the gas station earlier that afternoon.It’s even creepier than him being angry, and he starts talking in a tone that is clearly meant to be soothing but is anything but.“Now, now there young lady, nothin’ for you to worry about, heh… you’re gonna be just fine.”His face is twitching, not quite able to fully maintain the smile and it looks like his twisted mind is battling with itself on what exactly to do about you.You can’t see Bubba’s expression beneath the mask, but he’s frozen mid-cringe and staring at you with those horrible black eyeholes.“Nothin’ for you to worry about,” Drayton repeats, tapping the stick in his hand in midair against nothing.It sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than you.At last he seems to come to a decision and orders, “Bring her downstairs for dinner, then go get your grandpa.” Bubba nods and you shrink down into the mattress as much as you can when he reaches out those thick, hairy arms towards you again.Drayton backs up out of the way and says, “Now there, young lady, just relax, we’ll get ya’ some food… we’ll have a nice dinner and you’ll be just fine.Nothin’ to worry about…” and with that he walks out the door, leaving you alone with Bubba.

Your whole body goes tense as huge hands wrap around your upper arms, but his touch is surprisingly gentle.He’s finally close enough that you can see his real eyes: they’re big and brown with long, dark lashes, and unexpectedly, they look rather frightened.In fact, his whole demeanor is timid despite his abuser being out of the room and if you didn’t know better you’d guess that he’s actually more afraid of you than you are of him.How could that be possible?If he’s really a vicious murderer as reported then how could he be looking at you like you might hurt him? _He_ was the one who hit _you_ in the head, after all, and you’re still bound and helpless right now.Perhaps he is indeed as retarded as Drayton claims, unable to grasp the fact that he’s the one holding all of the power right now.Struggling is pointless- you're better off preserving your energy for the time being - so you allow those big, gentle hands to lift you out of the bed. Bubba wraps his arms around you and holds you close with your back against his chest, your feet dangling well up off of the floor as he walks towards the doorway, cowboy boots clomping against solid wood. His body feels just as solid, both strong and soft all at once and you can hear his nervous-sounding breath huffing behind your ear.He's radiating enough heat to rival the Texas sun and he smells overpoweringly of day-old sweat just starting to go sour and masculine musk. It reminds you a little of one of your ex-boyfriends after a strenuous summer hike, except that Bubba's got at least four inches and probably seventy pounds on even the largest man you've been with.It might almost be pleasant under different circumstances... circumstances other than being carried downstairs in a strange place by a suspected murderer wearing a mask of human skin under the direction of a suspected kidnapper and accomplice to - or perhaps rather the ringleader of - murder and torture.

 

That mask-wearing murderer sets you down on a chair beside a long, rough wooden dining table with that same unexpected gentleness before backing slowly away. He's unwilling or unable to make eye contact with you for long, his wide eyes darting between you and the table and his posture still timid. His broad shoulders are hunched and his hands twist the fabric of his apron as a low, quiet, nonstop sort of squawking noise like a chicken working up to laying an egg comes from beneath that old lady mask.It appears that he has no intention of hurting you - at least not yet - so you take the opportunity to inspect your surroundings: it looks just like the crime photos in your textbooks of that psychopath in Wisconsin. The wallpapered and dark wood-paneled dining room is filled with artifacts much like the human-bone windchime still sitting in an evidence bag inside your patrol car, except larger and even more horrific. The round lamp over the table looks like the skin of a human head, preserved and puffed out like a balloon to accommodate the lightbulb inside. There's another lamp hanging in the corner closest to you made up of an entire human skull, spine and ribcage, yellow light glowing through the ribs. It looks like a mix of a scientific model and a work of art, and while it's unspeakably grotesque you can't help but be a little impressed by the craftsmanship. Who is the artist behind these morbid creations? Is it the huge, cowering beast of a man backing slowly away from you? Or is it the man currently banging around in the kitchen who apparently controls his every move? Or is it someone you have yet to encounter?You know that Suspect A is roadkill, but perhaps there are others in this twisted little family unit that you’ve yet to meet.Speaking of roadkill, while most of the gruesome decor is stripped clean or is otherwise well-preserved, there is a distressingly rotten - and sizeable - pile of what looks like a mix of ground and shredded beef sitting on a cookie sheet on the table, right in front of the chair across from you. Chunks of bone and what might be fabric poke out from the gore and flies buzz around it, landing occasionally to enjoy a taste or lay their eggs in it, or whatever else flies do with carrion.You're no entomologist. Whatever they're doing it's disgusting, and the sight and smell is the first thing so far that has nearly made you gag.

“Tie her to the chair, ya’ big idiot!You want her to go waltzing right out the door?” hollers Drayton from the kitchen doorway, and Bubba scurries back towards you.You look down and notice with no small amount of alarm that there are ropes at the ready draped across the arms of your bone-adorned chair and your stomach turns when you realize that you are not the first to be tied up in this way.You may have allowed yourself to be carried downstairs without a fight, but sitting still while being tied to a chair is too much and despite your still-aching head you leap up and bolt back towards where you came from - you’d noticed the boarded-up front door at the foot of the stairs and pray that it’s unlocked.But you don’t get the chance to find out because Bubba lets out a loud, panicked noise somewhere between a squeal and a scream and tears after you, and within seconds his impossibly strong arms are wrapped tightly around your chest and your feet leave the ground once more.

“Let go of me, you sick fucks!” you scream, temporarily losing control of your cool, calculating mindset.You squirm and flail against the immovable wall of Bubba’s chest and arms but it doesn’t slow him down… nor does it shut him up.He’s still making those strange, loud, frantic noises that you can’t quite describe.It’s similar to a bovine in distress, like the way cows bellow when the ranchers take their calves away.He plops you back down in your seat and evades your kicking legs while he quickly wraps the ropes around your chest and the chair.Drayton’s poked his head back out of the kitchen at all the commotion, and he looks like he’s itching to smack his younger brother once more but doesn’t want to get in the way.He returns to the kitchen once Bubba has your upper body secured, then the latter bends down further to tie up your legs next and you force yourself to calm down once again.Clearly you can’t overpower him, but perhaps you can outsmart him.

“Bubba,” you say quietly, and he jerks as though you’ve struck him yourself.He glances up at you and finally goes silent, and when you meet his eyes you see surprise along with fear.“That’s your name, isn’t it?Bubba?” you ask softly enough that Drayton can’t hear you.After a few beats Bubba nods and makes a quiet little squeal, much like a piglet.You suddenly wonder if they don’t keep hogs at all, if the squealing you’d heard before everything went black was actually the man right in front of you now - before he knocked you out.“You don’t need to do that, Bubba, I promise I won’t run.You don’t need to tie up my legs.I’m sorry I ran from you.” you say soothingly, and now you see confusion in those big brown eyes.His hands fidget with the rope near your ankles and you add, “I just got scared.You know how it feels when you’re scared, right?Sometimes you just want to run away.”His soft whimpers and squeals speed up a bit, and even though he doesn’t nod you still get the feeling that he’s agreeing with you.“But I’m not scared anymore, so I won’t run.I’d like to have dinner with you and your brother.”That is probably the biggest lie you have ever told, but thankfully it appears to work.Bubba’s eyes seem to actually light up from beneath that sickly yellow grandmother mask and his squealing takes on a decidedly happy tone, which you didn’t realize was possible.Then he pats you somewhat clumsily on your knee with one big meaty hand, silver bracelet jingling, and lets go of the rope.He pats you once more on your shoulder as he stands all the way up and you exhale in quiet relief when he shuffles away from you, leaving at least your legs free for the time being.

“Now then, young lady,” Drayton grins as he enters the dining room with a big platter full of various sausages, “There’s no reason to be upset, now.”He places the platter in the center of the table, and though the meat actually smells quite delicious you haven’t the slightest intention of eating it voluntarily.

“I’m not upset,” you lie, “I just want to know what you’re going to do.”

“Yes, heh…” Drayton trails off.His smile is flickering in and out like a candle by an open window as he nervously taps the heel of his hand against the table top.“I’m just sorry you got caught up in all of this.It’s quite a pickle!”He returns to the kitchen without another word, and you once again take the opportunity to take note of your surroundings. Then you hear the now-familiar sound of Bubba's boots against the floorboards as he re-enters the room, now carrying what looks like the desiccated corpse of a man in an old-fashioned suit. This must be the grandpa Drayton told him to fetch, and you watch in horrified fascination as Bubba places the corpse in the chair at the head of the table with even more care than he'd shown you.He gently pats its shoulder and presses little kisses atop its bald head, and it would actually be sweet if it wasn't so horrifying... then that corpse licks its shriveled lips and your eyes go wide - this _"corpse"_ is actually alive.

"Is... Is this your grandpa?" you croak. Your current strategy is to try and win Bubba over enough that he might let his guard down, or maybe even let you go by choice when Drayton's not looking.You haven't quite determined just how slow in the head he actually is. While he seems to be more simple-minded than his brother, it's possible that he's just shy and has been thoroughly brow-beaten into submission rather than being severely retarded.He clearly understands you and nods between the soft little kisses he's giving the Sawyer patriarch.

Drayton enters the room with four glasses of something that you hope is tea. "Get in there and finish getting the table set," he commands, and with one last pat and kiss Bubba does as he's told.Before long there's a place setting in front of you and Bubba sits down between you and his grandpa, with Drayton across from you between his grandpa and the large pile of rotting meat.Drayton begins eating, but you notice that Bubba starts tending to his grandfather before feeding himself, breaking up small pieces of sausage and feeding the ancient man with his fingers. Once again you're struck with how oddly sweet it is. Even murderous, skin-wearing kidnappers can have loved ones, it seems.

You have no desire to eat, but you've been desperately thirsty since you regained consciousness and you've got to drink something if you want to keep your strength up. "Please, may I have some water?" you ask, and Bubba looks to his brother as if seeking permission.

"Hold up the glass for her," he decides after a brief pause, and Bubba leans over to take your glass and hold it to your lips. He clearly knows how to feed someone who can't really move - no doubt thanks to apparently being the primary caregiver of his grandfather - because he holds the glass steady and tilts it perfectly in time with your eager gulps so that none of it spills. It is indeed tea and you chug half of the glass in one go, and for some reason Bubba's making those soft little squeals as you drink, almost as if he's encouraging you. "Now then," Drayton says between a mouthful of sausage, "I think what we've gotta do is drive you up to the phone booth in the morning an’ have you give a call to the sheriff."You look at him in confusion as Bubba pulls the glass away but then he clarifies:"Can't have them sending a search party out, so you just tell 'em you quit an’ are movin' on from this town.

"And what if I refuse?" you ask, and Bubba lets out a nervous whine.

"Well then we'll just have to kill ya' and take our chances." Drayton answers.

"So you'll let me live if I do?" you ask with one skeptical eyebrow raised.

"Well I think that could be arranged," Drayton says with that creepy grey-toothed grin and you don't believe him for a second. But what choice do you have? It's death either now or later, and the more time you can buy, the better.

"Alright, fine." you reply, and Bubba makes another piglet-like squeal and scoops up a forkful of sausage and offers it to you. "No thank you, I'm really not hungry." you say, and he seems oddly crestfallen by your refusal.He makes a clucking sound like a mother hen - fitting for his grandmotherly attire - and tries again, but you insist you're not hungry and he finally gives up.

The rest of dinner is a quiet affair, the three men eating their food, the flies buzzing around theirs, and Bubba offering you your glass from time to time. Once the meal is done Bubba carefully carries his grandpa back upstairs as Drayton starts clearing the table, and as soon as they're out of sight you wiggle against your restraints in earnest but to no avail.Clearly Bubba knows how to handle a rope.When he returns from upstairs he helps Drayton clean up, but they leave the cookie sheet piled with carrion right where it is and you wonder why...

"Take her back upstairs for the night," orders Drayton, and Bubba scurries over and starts untying you from the chair. "And be sure to tie her down to the bed nice an’ tight! Can't let her jump out the window like that last crazy bitch."You find it quite rich for someone like him to refer to anyone else as _"crazy"_ but hold back the cutting remark on the tip of your tongue.Bubba makes a babbling sound of understanding, and then you're pressed close against him once again as he takes you upstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bubba, I need to use the bathroom." you say as you re-enter the same bedroom where you woke up earlier.  It's true that your bladder is feeling the effects of all the tea you chugged, but you're also hoping for an opportunity to escape.Like Sally Hardesty, you're certainly not opposed to jumping out a window if it means freedom. Bubba makes nervous little sounds as he shakes his head, then sets you down on the mattress as easily as if you were a baby. "I mean it, I'm going to have an accident if you don't let me go to the bathroom." you insist and he wrings his hands as his agitated noises get louder, clearly at a loss as to how to handle this situation.He looks frantically around the room for a few minutes, then rushes to the closet and pulls out a dented metal bucket. He sets it down on the floor by the bed and gestures at it, and you look up at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious? You want me to pee in that?"He seems embarrassed and his gesturing becomes faster and more repetitive as his nervous whine gets louder."Can you at least untie my hands?" you sigh, and for the first time he makes a sound that is very clearly the English language:

"Uh-uh, uh-uh," he shakes his head, then gestures down towards the floor. It takes you a second to realize that he's afraid to disobey his brothers instructions to keep you tied up.Getting Bubba to let his guard down might end up being trickier than you hoped.

"Ok fine, at the very least can you get me something to wipe with?"You're unable to keep the irritation out of your tone and he looks a little abashed. He nods and babbles a clear _"uh-huh"_ of assent before tying one of your ankles to the bed frame, then he hurries out of the room. He returns right away with a rag, and though it's stained with what looks disturbingly like blood at least it appears to be clean. "Great," you grumble, "Now a little privacy, please?"Bubba's nervous whine gets louder still, and he shuffles towards then away from the door several times, clearly battling with himself on whether or not to leave.Eventually he decides against it, instead just turning his back to you and waving his hand behind him to signal for you to get on with it.

 

You can't remember ever being in such a humiliating position: squatting over a bucket and taking a piss right behind your kidnapper. Your only consolation is that Bubba seems just as uncomfortable as you are - actually, he might somehow be feeling even _more_ uncomfortable than you judging by how he's trembling and fidgeting and making those distressed bovine noises.It’s actually kind of cute.Better him than Drayton, at least, for while Drayton hasn't done anything outright perverted towards you, it wouldn't surprise you if he did.Bubba, on the other hand, appears to be too shy to even think things like that, so all things considered you suppose you're lucky.It takes ages for you to accomplish this simple task with your wrists bound together, but when you finally finish and tell him he can turn around again he urges you back into bed with those clucking mother hen sounds.Once he has you tied up Bubba pulls the thin cotton quilt over you and actually tucks you in, then - unbelievably - he pats you clumsily on your shoulder several times before turning off the light and hurrying out the door.

You spend what must be hours trying to break loose from your bonds: you gnaw at the ropes at your wrists with your teeth and try rubbing them against the bedpost but it's hopeless. Eventually you fall into a restless sleep filled with nightmares of living corpses and piles of bones dragging themselves across the floor.

 

Morning comes far too soon but you awaken with a jolt just the same when you hear the clomp of cowboy boots outside your room.Bubba carefully pushes the door open and peeks his head inside, greeting you with a nonstop stream of soft, anxious-sounding noises and that awful grandmother mask once more.Remembering your plan, you muster up a smile and say, “Hi, Bubba.”

It’s hard to tell because of the mask, but he seems delighted by your greeting and he comes the rest of the way into the room with a little more confidence.The timbre of his voice gets less-nervous and soon he’s chattering happily at you as he untucks the covers and starts untying you from the bed - though unfortunately he leaves your wrists bound.He helps you sit up and you’re struck with the very strong feeling of being cared for by a particularly attentive male nurse… except you’re not his patient.  You’re his captive.You squash the tiny feeling of softness his attentiveness had been stirring in you and focus on your objective once more: you’re not being nice to him because he deserves it, you’re being nice to him to save your own skin - perhaps literally.Bubba points to the bucket still holding your cold urine from the night before and makes a questioning noise.“No, I don’t have to go again yet.” you answer, so he reaches for you and picks you up to take you downstairs.He smells a bit better today than he did the night before and you wonder if he’s taken a bath.His clothes are still a little ripe, but he himself smells more appealingly musky rather than than sweaty - though you suppose it’s still early in the day and if it’s another hot one then he’ll no doubt reek just as badly by the end of it as he did yesterday.

He places you back in your dinner chair, and though he ties you just as tightly as he did last night he once again leaves your legs free and gives your shoulder several gentle pats before going to the kitchen. He returns in a few minutes trailing behind his brother, and both men are carrying plates of food. "Well now, good morning, young lady!" Drayton says with way more civility than is appropriate considering you're a captive rather than a guest. "Sleep well?"

You glare at him as he sets down a plate of bacon and takes his own seat. "As well as is probably possible considering you're holding me prisoner." you say flatly.

Drayton chuckles as Bubba starts loading up your plate with bacon and biscuits.  "Might wanna watch your tone, Miss.  I'm gettin' low on barbecue and there ain't no reason to have ta’ keep you around once we make that call today."

Bubba whimpers anxiously and moves to plop yet another biscuit on your plate, but then stops when his brother gives him a stern look.  You haven't the slightest idea what Drayton's barbecue supply has to do with keeping you alive or not.  You suppose he just means he doesn't need another mouth to feed since considering your squalid surroundings it's clear that the Sawyers are quite impoverished... but then another, more horrific possibility hits you. "Is this bacon?" you ask, eying the greasy strips of meat on your plate. 

"Sure is," Drayton grins before taking a bite of his own breakfast. "Best bacon in Texas!"

"From a pig?" you ask warily, and Bubba makes a startlingly-realistic hoglike squeal, loud enough to make you jump.

Drayton's smile is downright sinister at this point and your stomach turns when he merely repeats, "Best bacon in Texas!"

"I just want the biscuit, please," you say shakily when Bubba offers you some of that _"bacon"_ , so he sets it down and holds a biscuit to your mouth instead.  You hesitate, praying that there's nothing in this biscuit that'll send you straight to hell for consuming once the Lord comes to take you away, then take a deep breath and a bite. You need to keep your strength up. Fortunately it tastes and feels like a normal biscuit - it’s actually quite tasty - and you glance at Bubba when he makes a happy little noise. His eyes are eager and excited, and he's running his tongue along his lips as he watches you chew. His lips are full - cherubic, in fact - and a little bit chapped. His teeth are quite crooked and have odd little points, the byproducts of faulty genetics and lack of access to dental care.  When you give him a weak smile he actually giggles, sounding much like a child despite being mature enough to have dark chest hair curling up from below his collar to match the hair on his arms.

"Quiet, ya' nitwit, and hurry it up. We've gotta get a move on." Drayton grumbles, and Bubba's excitement deflates into a sullen pout. The rest of breakfast goes quickly and quietly, and the three biscuits and half a glass of tea keeps the rumbling in your stomach at bay.  Drayton orders Bubba to bind your arms tightly against your sides, then Bubba carries you outside and sets you on the passenger seat of Drayton's ancient old truck.  The elder brother climbs in the drivers side and you notice a straight-razor in his hand.  You wonder if it's the same razor that Suspect A used to assault Franklin Hardesty.  Drayton starts up the engine with a rattle, then pulls out of the dusty driveway, leaving Bubba behind. "This ain't normally how we do things," he says in that weird, nervous tone, running his thumb along the handle of the razor. "Usually Nubbins takes care of this kinda stuff, but, well... there's just some things that've got to be done. Don't mean ya’ have ta' like it!"  He sounds almost apologetic, but you're not impressed.

"Is Nubbins the one who got smeared all over Route 304?" you say coldly, and you immediately know you've made a mistake. Drayton slams on the brakes and you fly forward in your seat, nearly cracking your head on the dash.  He turns to you with rage in his eyes and brings the razor right up against your throat.

"Listen here, you bitch, that's my brother yer talkin’ about, understand?  And I won't stand for no one disrespectin’ my kin. You hear me?"

"Yes," you gulp, but stop short of apologizing. If he didn't have a blade against your jugular you'd point out that he's done nothing but disrespect his remaining brother during the short time you've been with them, but you hold your tongue. He glares at you furiously for another moment before removing the razor and starting forward again, and you let out a shaky breath. You get the feeling you just narrowly dodged a bullet.

You reach a lone pay phone on the side of a road that you didn't even know was there. Drayton forces you out of the truck with the straight-razor against your throat, so close that it actually scrapes your skin once or twice.  You could probably fight him off if you weren't so thoroughly bound, and the frustration of being thrown around by this scrawny old man is intolerable.  He slips a nickel into the slot with his free hand and you tell him the number to the sheriffs office. "You know what to say!" he hisses, holding the battered receiver to your face, and you just barely nod.  You pray that the sheriff will sense that something is wrong from your tone and the strangeness of you suddenly up and quitting your job, that it will arouse enough suspicion to send someone looking for you, but by his nonchalant response you fear that he's taking your words at face value. It was your best hope of escaping your predicament, and now that it's been flushed down the drain you feel like crying for the first time since this whole mess began.  "That's a good girl," your captor says condescendingly as he hangs up the phone, and oh how you wish you could punch him in the nose.

"So you're going to let me live now, right?" you ask as he drives you back, and you curse the waver in your voice. Now that you've made the call he has no need for you anymore.

"Well now I just don't know. I really am runnin' low on barbecue." he says airily and you suddenly want to vomit as well as cry. You turn down the dusty drive in front of the Sawyer homestead and see Bubba waiting on the front porch, only now his apron is gone and he's wearing a different mask: this one appears male with short, dark brown hair sticking up in dull, messy clumps with eyebrows to match. His short-sleeved dress shirt is tucked into his black slacks and his blue and white necktie is too short for his torso. For some sick reason you're actually relieved to see him - at least he seems less eager to see you dead than his brother does. It feels a little soon to be developing Stockholm Syndrome already, but you'll take whatever protection you can get. "Get her in the house," Drayton commands and Bubba pulls you out of the truck as carefully as if you were a grocery sack full of eggs.  You're once again struck by how enormous he is, by the sheer size of him and how strong he feels. This time you go to the living room, though it could barely be called that since it's utterly filled with feathers and bones and pieces of junk. It's truly revolting, and you can't help but cringe when Bubba sets you down on a sofa elaborately decorated with bones, some of which are clearly human.  He sits down beside you, but now that he's not feeding you or tying you up or tucking you into bed he doesn't seem to know what to do and he keeps his distance, but he's still close enough to grab you if you try to escape. He's looking at you with what seems to be a mix of shyness and curiosity, which is better than the treatment you've been getting from his brother so far.

"That should keep the authorities from snoopin’ around after her," that same brother says as he sits down in an armchair nearby, which thankfully seems to be constructed entirely of animal parts rather than human.  "Now ta’ take care of business. You know what to do."  He waves one hand dismissively and you're about to leap up from the sofa and make a mad break for it, but before you get the chance Bubba grabs your arm with one massive hand and makes a high-pitched whine of distress. Drayton blinks at him. "You can't be serious. You actually wanna keep her?" he says disdainfully and you look quickly at Bubba - he's nodding vigorously and he's close enough that you can see a faint blush beneath the open edge of his mask.  "She's a pretty girl, don't you like her face?"  Drayton asks and Bubba nods, but rather than being flattered you have an unpleasant suspicion that he means for a possible mask.  "Well then you've gotta kill her!"

"Uh-uh, uh-uh!" Bubba insists, shaking his head, and oh Lord, how you hope he'll stand his ground.

"Who's gonna look after her?" Drayton demands and Bubba babbles insistently and points to himself. "You? I can't even trust you to look after yourself, now that yer brother's gone! _He_ woulda taken her out without talkin' back!  If you hadn't let that blonde bitch get away in the first place we wouldn't even be in this pickle! How do I know you won't let this one escape, too, ya' damn fool!"  He's full on shouting now and you're expecting Bubba to back down, but though he's cowering a bit he keeps babbling and squeezing your arm as he shakes his head.  Drayton's lips purse tightly over his teeth as he balls his fists, and he's probably wishing he had his walloping stick right now.  He fumes quietly for a few minutes and you wonder why he won't just kill you himself, but you're not stupid enough to ask.  "You don't need another pet, you already got that damn chicken!" he eventually shouts, pointing to a slightly sad-looking hen in a far too small cage hanging from the ceiling, but something in his tone feels like he's starting to give in.  He's quiet for a few more minutes as Bubba continues to whine. He sounds truly pathetic and at last he seems to have won Drayton over.  "I guess it is a mite lonely around here with just yer grandpa for company now that Nubbins is gone," Drayton mutters, and he sounds a little bit sad as well. Psychotic though he clearly is, it's obvious he loved his late brother.  "Maybe keepin’ an eye on her will keep you outta trouble while I'm away at the station?" he adds, more to himself than to Bubba, but Bubba nods vigorously as he says  _"uh-huh"_ over and over.  You feel like a piece of livestock on the auction block, and then it gets even worse when Drayton murmurs, "Might be good fer breedin'... gotta keep the line goin’... was gonna have Nubbins do it since he weren't quite as stupid, but well, that ship's done sailed away..."

This is a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. You've gone from fearing torture and death to being cannibalized, and now to being raped and forcibly impregnated.  And it's all being discussed right in front of you as casually as one might talk about the weather.  You almost blurt out that you can't be used for breeding thanks to the IUD you had placed back in your more progressive hometown, but you're too afraid to make Drayton change his mind about keeping you alive.  You glance at Bubba out of the corner of your eye and images of him fucking you as if you were no more than a brood sow flash through your mind and it makes you feel sick. Then you notice that his faint blush from before is now a deep, burning crimson, and his _"uh-huhs"_ come to a stuttering halt before devolving into a panicked whine before finally trailing off into silence.

"Alright," Drayton says decisively, "You can keep her.  But don't you let her outta yer sight for one single second, you understand me?  Not one single second!  Or else it'll be _you_ in the freezer, you hear me?!  And if she gets away I'll be wearin' _your_ hide after I beat it raw, understand?!"  Bubba nods more frantically than ever, the loose chin of his mask flapping a bit.  Then Drayton sets his sights on you. "And you, little Missy.  You try to escape you'll wish you weren't ever born."  His voice is chilling, but it's even more disturbing when his genial smile returns and he says to Bubba, "Why don't I go get some more rope, we can make her a leash.  Can't keep yer new pet tied to a bed all day, and you sure can't carry her around when you got chores to do!"

You're too stunned to argue and instead sit there in shock as Drayton walks out of the room.  Bubba, however, has perked up considerably and starts patting your shoulder and arm in what feels like a reassuring way as his little piglet squeals start up again.  The rest of the day is spent right there on the sofa with a rope around your neck, not tight enough to choke you but too tight for you to slip free. The knot is impossible for you to untie with your wrists bound in front of you, and even if you could physically do it your new _"owner"_ never leaves your side. Fortunately he seems to sense your unhappiness and after awhile he stops patting you, but you can't meet his eyes as he stares at you as if you're the most fascinating thing on the planet. That night after you piss in the bucket again he gently ties and tucks you into bed like before, and your dreams are filled with rough, sweaty copulation with a creature that's half man and half boar, and his animalistic squeals match your own.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Bubba greets you far earlier than he has yet so far and you rub your face against the flat feather pillow, trying in vain to get the sleep out of your eyes.You're completely exhausted from hardly sleeping for the last several nights, spending half the time awake and struggling to get loose and the other half plagued by nightmares.Bubba's in his housewife outfit like he has been every morning, and he greets you with a series of soft, motherly squawks and squeals.

"Hi Bubba," you greet him in return.You still aren't giving up on your strategy of winning him over as much as possible - it's the only plan you've got at this point and it's your best hope of survival.He unties you from the bed and picks you up like always, but when he holds you in his arms with your back tight against his strong, warm stomach and chest vivid images of your dreams from that night flash through your head and it makes your face burn.You can clearly remember the feeling of that boar-man-creature rutting into you from behind with quick, brutal thrusts, his damp, musky chest hair scraping your bare back and his slightly sharp teeth digging into your neck as he grunts and squeals and fills you with his seed...

"Can I just walk downstairs with you?" you request.His body feels far too much like that dream creature and you’re unable to tolerate being pressed up against him at the moment."I promise I won't run." It's a dumb thing to add, since you're still wearing the makeshift leash and trying to run while he's holding it would only lead to your choking or breaking your own neck.But again - you're trying to get him to let his guard down eventually.Mercifully he lets go of you, setting your feet gently on the floor and as expected he takes the end of the leash instead.He doesn't seem to register this as a degrading act, he just says something to you in that indecipherable gibberish of his in a perfectly pleasant conversational tone.You just smile and nod and follow him out the door and down the stairs like a dog, and find the house quiet save for the clucking of the chicken in that way too small cage.It’s just about dawn, apparently so early that Drayton's not even awake yet.Bubba takes you out the back door and you take deep, delicious breaths of the clean morning air. After being kept in the musty old house that's been steeped in death, the fresh air is like a cleansing balm to your lungs.He brings you around to the side where the generator sits, and after pausing and thinking for a moment he ties his end of your leash around his own wrist, freeing up both his hands while still keeping you captive.You take the opportunity to check out as much of the yard as you can see, searching for possible future hiding places and escape routes while he refills the generator from the pile of gas cans stacked in the nearby shed.

You wish you could stay outside in the fresh air all day, but Bubba leads you back into the kitchen.He's still chattering away as he pulls various things out of drawers and cupboards, and it almost seems as if he’s trying to explain to you what he’s doing.He gets some leftover biscuits from yesterday's breakfast, then pulls a mason jar of what looks like blood out of the fridge and you hope that he's not expecting you to drink it.He grabs a large syringe out of the dish rack, then takes you and his tray full of food and dishes to the bathroom.He retrieves a grimy-looking jar of Vaseline and a thin, flexible tube from where it's resting on a towel on the countertop, and you're completely puzzled.What on earth is he doing?You pray to whatever God might be listening that these items have nothing to do with you.

You both go back upstairs, but instead of returning to your room he takes you to the room next door - and inside is his grandfather.The ancient man is slouched in a rocking chair, and sitting next to him in another chair is the corpse of a woman. This one is unmistakably dead, for she's rotting away and practically mummified rather than just looking shriveled and pale.You gulp.“Hello, sir,” you say to the grandfather, but receive no reply.Bubba, however, looks delighted with the respect you’re showing his kin, and you turn to the woman’s corpse and ask, “Is this your grandma?"Bubba nods proudly as he sets his tray down on the floor next to a lamp with no shade and what looks like the poorly-preserved taxidermy of some sort of fox.Then he ties you to the doorknob and makes quick little waving gestures at you with his arms as he grunts.You have no idea what he’s trying to communicate so eventually he resorts to just grasping your shoulders and turning you around so that you’re facing the wall rather than the room.He goes back to his grandparents - what's left of them, anyway - and you can’t help but peek over your shoulder as subtly as you can after a moment to see what’s going on.As much as it seems like he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s still dangerous.It's extremely probable that he's killed at least one person with a chainsaw, and anyone who can treat a rotting corpse like a living person clearly has a very tenuous grasp on reality.And that’s not even counting the skin-mask and cannibalism aspects.You didn’t see him bring a knife upstairs with him from the kitchen, but who knows what he’s got tucked in the pockets of his apron or pants?Not that he even _needs_ a knife when he could kill you with his bare hands… but still, turning your back to him for long seems like a bad idea either way.You’re trying to get _his_ guard down, but there’s no way you’re letting down _yours_.

Fortunately he's not paying any attention to you anymore, and you sneak curious glances as he fetches a metal bucket much like the one you've been using as a toilet. After giving his grandpa several soft kisses and pats on top of his bald head he kneels down on the floor in front of him.Babbling quietly, Bubba then unfastens his grandfathers trousers and pulls out the old mans penis.It's shriveled and limp like a dead, white sea cucumber, and it makes you never want to have sex ever again.Bubba picks up the thin, flexible tube he took from the bathroom and smears it with Vaseline, and you wince as he gently inserts it into the tip of that shriveled old penis.Urine immediately flows into the bucket and you take a moment to reflect on the cruelty of time - there is very little dignity in old age.Then you reflect on the fact that this supposed _"halfwit"_ is tending to his grandfather with all the patience, care and skill of a nurse, though you're almost positive he's had no formal training.The more time you spend with Bubba the higher your assessment of his mental capacity rises.While his speech impediment is significant and some of his movements and gestures remind you strongly of some of the residents you worked with during your brief volunteer stint at a group home for the mentally-challenged, the rest of his behavior so far indicates that he’s not nearly as stupid or helpless as his brother claims. The scene you're currently witnessing is impressive, and his willingness to perform this task is actually extremely touching.You can't say for sure that you'd be willing to do such a job... but then again, you can afford to pay a professional to do it for you.Or at least you could have, before you were forced to quit your job. The Sawyers can't afford such a luxury and that annoying feeling of softness towards your captor starts creeping up again but you quickly stomp it back down - even if the Sawyers _could_ afford a visiting nurse, their sick lifestyle would prevent any strangers from coming into their home.Not while making it out alive, anyway.

Once the flow of urine stops the catheter is removed and the old mans pants are zipped back up, and Bubba scoots the bucket aside. You quickly look at the wall once again and you wonder why exactly he made you turn away in the first place. Was it to preserve as much of his grandfathers dignity as possible? Or was it to spare you the embarrassment of having to watch?You find it somewhat amusing that someone who apparently sees nothing wrong with making people into fashion accessories, bacon and barbecue would be sensitive to things like bathroom privacy. He's certainly conscious of your need for privacy when you use the bathroom - or rather, the bucket - and while he appears comfortable providing this assistance to his grandpa, for some reason so far he’s been a nervous wreck when he has to supervise you.

Things are quiet for a few minutes save for Bubba's soft, hen-like squawk, and you glance over again to see him now feeding his grandpa. Your nose scrunches up in disgust at the fact that he didn't wash his hands between tasks, but you suppose this indifference to - or ignorance of - hygiene is not all that surprising considering there's a mummified corpse not four feet away. Clearly members of the Sawyer family possess especially robust immune systems.Bubba breaks off little pieces of biscuit and soaks them in blood, then waits with the utmost patience while the old man chews and swallows before holding the next piece up for him.When the biscuits are gone Bubba loads the syringe with the remaining blood and feeds it to him as if he was feeding an orphaned kitten, and while the fact that it's blood is disturbing and disgusting, once again you're oddly touched by the tenderness this skin-wearing monster is showing.

Once the feeding is done he gives his grandpa several more gentle kisses and pats, then does the same for his dead grandma before picking up the tray and bucket and walking back to you.He ties your leash around his wrist again, then leads you back out of the room and down the stairs once more.He dumps the bucket down the toilet and wipes the catheter and his hands on a towel, and oh Lord how you wish he'd wash his hands as well but you're not sure you should suggest it. Drayton may boss him around, but you doubt that privilege extends to you. Speaking of Drayton, he's finally awake and in the kitchen cooking up this mornings breakfast.He looks up from his frying pan as you enter the kitchen.

"How's your grandpa this morning?" he asks, and Bubba says something that seems to indicate that nothing is out of the ordinary today. "Good. How's your new pet? Glad to see you haven't let her escape already," he adds. "If I had a dollar for every time you lost track of that chicken I could close up shop and retire yesterday."

You may as well be a chicken yourself by the way he's talking, and you once again think of his insinuation of breeding you with his younger brother.Feeling slightly emboldened by your status as that same younger brothers _"pet"_ \- and possible future brood sow - you look Drayton in the eye and sneer, "I'm right here, you know. I have a name."You may be being treated like an animal, but you're going to fight it as much as you can.

“Well pardon me, Miss," Drayton chuckles, and you want to punch his gross greying teeth right out of his head for what must be the fiftieth time. "What was it again, young lady?"

You coldly remind him, then notice that Bubba's looking at you with great interest. Apparently he's eager to learn the name of his _"pet"_ , and he even attempts to parrot it back to you. He actually comes pretty close, and for some reason him calling you by his version of your name makes you feel a tiny bit better about your situation.It’s one more bit of humanity you can cling to.

Once again you decline the bacon, but the eggs are a welcome source of protein after nothing but biscuits and tea for the last several meals and you try not to think about where Bubba’s hands have been as he holds the biscuits up for you to eat.At least he uses a fork for the eggs. Drayton doesn't stick around to clean up after breakfast, he instead heads off to open the gas station with one final warning to his brother to keep a close watch on you.You follow Bubba around as he cleans up the breakfast mess, and he finally manages to get some soap on his hands while washing the dishes.Then he takes you to that revolting feather-and-bone filled living room and starts fidgeting in that way of his that reminds you of the residents of the group home.He’s making weird little anxious noises under his breath and it feels like he’s trying to decide what to do… then to your horror he rummages around on the nearby worktable and finds a piece of filthy-looking fabric that he starts to tie around your head.While you’ve been acting compliant so far you can’t help but instinctively try to wriggle away from this latest method of making you helpless, but it’s futile - he’s just too strong. The fabric is fastened tightly over your eyes, thoroughly blinding you.

"Bubba, what are you doing? Why'd you blindfold me?” you call out as he steps away from you, starting to panic a little.It’s bad enough being restrained by your wrists and neck, but being unable to see is triggering your fight-or-flight response in a big, big way.He babbles and squeals in a tone that seems reassuring, but it doesn't make you feel better.There is a rustling noise and you listen closely, and thankfully after only a few minutes he takes your blindfold back off - though unfortunately he tucks it into his pocket, no doubt for future use. He's traded the old lady mask for the male one and taken off his apron, but beyond that his clothes haven't changed.Why did he cover your eyes if all he was changing was his mask?It's not like he had to get naked.So you have to assume that he _feels_ naked without a mask on and that you seeing him without it, even for only a second, is somehow just as embarrassing for him as if he actually _was_ naked.Fascinating.You try to study his face beneath that mask as much as you can as he leads you out of the room again, but you can’t see much.Is he horribly deformed under there?Judging by his teeth and some of his mannerisms you suspect that there may be some inbreeding in his family tree… plus you can’t imagine the Sawyers ever brought too many outsiders in to _“keep the line going”_ , as Drayton put it.But other than that what you _can_ see of him appears normal enough - in fact, his brown eyes with their long lashes and his full lips are actually rather attractive, and before you know it you’re super curious to see him without his mask on for reasons other than that staring at the stitched-together skin of a dead person is rather unnerving.You’re getting more and more used to it, though, and you wonder how long it will take before you don’t even think about it anymore… hopefully you’ll manage to escape before that happens.Bubba runs his tongue along his plump lower lip and makes a nervous sort of noise when he notices you staring at him, then he quickly looks away.Perhaps he’s just terribly shy?Just like his embarrassment when you have to use the bucket, his bashfulness now is kind of cute.You wonder how much social interaction he’s had with other people outside of his family… you suppose he’s interacted with victims, but in your opinion that doesn’t count as _“social interaction”_.You wonder if he’s ever kept another person as a _“pet”_ besides you… from the way Drayton was talking it doesn’t sound like it, and you wonder what about you is different.Whatever it is, you’re grateful for it.Being his pet is infinitely better than being his face.

He takes you to the bathroom, then fidgets again for a moment, clearly trying to figure out the answer to yet another problem in his mind.“I don’t have to go,” you offer, but he shakes his head as he thinks.Then it dawns on you: _he_ probably has to go, and considering how flustered he got just from you staring at his face - even with a mask on - you can’t imagine he could handle having you in the room while he relieves himself, even if you’re looking the other way.What a hypocrite, you think wryly.He looks down at the bottom of the door and a lightbulb seems to click on in his head… then before you know it he’s shut the bathroom door in your face, leaving you in the hall with the rope around your neck trailing through the crack between the door and the floor.Well, it’s better than being blindfolded again, and you take the opportunity to attempt to break free from your bonds while he’s out of sight.Once again you fail, and when he opens the door again you stop struggling - you want to convince him that you’re happy with your situation so that maybe he’ll untie you someday soon.“Hey, would it be alright if you let me use the bathroom, too, instead of the bucket?Please?” you request, and he thinks for another moment before finally giving you a slightly-unsure nod.“Thanks!” you beam at him, and he gives you a shy little smile in return.You’re making progress with him faster than you’d hoped - it seems that the key is showing him kindness and respect, and you wonder how often he’s been smiled at and treated nicely in his life.He certainly doesn’t seem to get much of it from Drayton, and you actually hope that the late Nubbins was nicer to him.Then you frown to yourself even as your external smile remains.Why are you empathizing with Bubba so much when he’s holding a rope around your neck and just now granted you the basic dignity of being able to use a toilet?But despite that there’s something rather pathetic about him.You scold yourself and try to shake off this feeling of softness he keeps managing to stir in you as he leads you through a metal sliding door into a room you’ve not yet been in… and what you discover there definitely helps push that softness away.


	5. Chapter 5

The first thing you see is the chainsaw.It’s sitting on a rough wooden butcher’s block in the center of the room and you can immediately envision the police report in your head: _“Suspect B proceeded to murder Franklin Hardesty with a chainsaw”_.Your heart speeds up as Bubba leads you towards it, and images of him using it to kill someone rush through your mind.How terrifying must Franklin Hardesty’s last moments have been, staring up at this huge, leather-faced man before the screaming, grinding teeth of the saw cut through his flesh?Did Bubba make those hoglike squeals or bovine bellows that he so often makes, or does he murder in silence, letting the chainsaw do the talking for him?Did it take long?Was he merciful and quick, or did he purposefully drag it out?Sally Hardesty accused the Sawyers of torturing her, but being a torturer seems incongruous with the behavior you’ve seen from Bubba so far… though to be fair you’ve only seen him interacting with his family.And you.And while your situation is not a pleasant one, it certainly doesn’t amount to torture.You glance up at him fearfully, wondering if somehow a switch gets flipped in his mind that leads him to kill, hoping that the saw isn’t somehow a trigger for him.But he seems perfectly calm, he just walks you past the butcher’s block and ties your leash around a wooden post that you then notice is part of a larger structure… and your blood goes cold when you see the two large meathooks hanging from the top beam of that structure.The floor and wall behind the gallows are splattered with old blood, as is a round metal tub on the floor beneath one of the hooks.Oh God, has he changed his mind about keeping you and has brought you here to slaughter you like an animal?Are you going to end up as bacon on his breakfast table and barbecue at Drayton’s gas station, sold to unsuspecting travelers?Will your blood feed that ancient old man upstairs?Will Bubba add your face to his collection of masks, wearing it when he feels like being a _“pretty girl”_?You start trembling uncontrollably as he leaves you tied to the post and your knees actually give out when he walks back towards the saw.For the first time you’re about to start begging him for your life, but he goes right past the saw and instead plucks a blood-splattered yellow apron off a nail on the wall and puts it on.Then he opens up a door on the wall behind you and you watch in horror as he leans inside where you can’t see, then pulls out the stiff body of a dead man and heaves it onto the butcher’s block with a heavy thud.Then he notices that you’re on the floor shaking like a leaf, and he hurries over to you while making noises that you’re starting to recognize as concerned and questioning.He puts his hands under your arms and lifts you to your feet as though you weigh nothing, looking at you with utter confusion in his eyes as he pats your shoulder.How can he possibly not understand why you’re upset?Apparently this is normal for him, but how can he expect it to be normal for you?Or does he know it’s abnormal and he just wants to reassure you that you’re not going to be on the receiving end of the saw, at least not right now?Suddenly your studies in abnormal psychology aren’t helping you at all, and you wish that you knew what he was thinking… but even if he could answer, you’d be too afraid to ask.

Once it’s apparent that you’re not going to explain your reaction Bubba gives up trying to comfort you and returns to the body on the table.He starts cutting off the dead mans clothes with a pair of scissors, and once the corpse is completely nude he sets the scissors aside and reaches for the saw.You watch, riveted in terror as he adjusts a few buttons and levers, then pulls back the cord and the saw starts up with a roar and a cloud of exhaust.He picks it up and holds it near his face to inspect it, watching the sharp chain of teeth whirr around the blade, then when he seems satisfied he brings the saw to one of the dead man’s arms and starts cutting.You close your eyes and look away, but with your hands tied you can’t shield your ears from the horrific sound of the revving engine and splintering bone.You lose track of time as the chainsaw drones on.The room soon smells like blood and gasoline smoke, and after what feels like an eternity in hell the motor finally stutters and dies.You hear a quiet thunk and crack open one eye to see that Bubba’s set the chainsaw on the counter beneath the window, then he picks up a meat cleaver and returns to the body, now severed at the neck, shoulders, hips and knees.You hold back your vomit as Bubba raises the cleaver and brings it down at the mans right elbow, severing the forearm with one powerful hit.Then he does the same to the wrist and the hand nearly bounces off the table from the force of the chop.You slip back down into hell for God only knows how long as he meticulously butchers this unfortunate person, and you wonder if this is Franklin Hardesty… or perhaps maybe missing person 752B, 752C or 752D.Bubba wraps each piece of flesh - now transformed into cuts of meat - in brown butcher paper and places them in the large chest freezer against the wall.

 

Eventually there’s not much left on the table but inedible little bits like fingers and toes, some bones and the few organs that aren’t good for eating - Bubba’s wrapped up and saved most of them.And of course the head that you’ve been trying so hard not to look at.But the process has taken hours and by this time you’re slightly numb, so you watch without really seeing as Bubba scrapes those little odds and ends and remaining offal into a bucket and places the head in a bucket of its own.He says something to you for the first time since he started this task but you don’t even try to suss out what he means - you just stand there tied to the gallows as he finally washes his hands more thoroughly than you’ve seen him do yet, then he takes off his bloody apron and hangs it on its nail before coming over to retrieve you.The guts slosh and the head rolls around in their respective buckets as Bubba takes you back to the kitchen, and he sets the head bucket on the counter.He gets a small cup of water from the sink, then leads you to the bone-and-feather room where his pet chicken is.He starts talking to it in soft little clucks as he opens up the cage door and puts the water and a few fingers and other bits that you can’t identify from the gut bucket inside.The hen immediately drinks just as thirstily as you had on the first night you woke up here, then it starts picking at the human remains.You know that chickens are omnivores, but it’s still a horrible sight.Bubba’s talking to this wretched-looking bird as though he really loves it, and he even gives it a few pats along it’s feathered back that it completely ignores.Then he turns to you and babbles something, so you pull yourself out of your stunned fog and say, “Hi, chicken.”What else can you say?But that seems to satisfy him and he closes up the cage once more with a few final clucks and leads you back out of the room.

God, what could possibly be next?You’re exhausted and overwhelmed from poor sleep and disturbing dreams, waking up far too early, seeing what looked like a hundred-year-old penis get catheterized, suffering through another breakfast with Drayton, watching a person get butchered like a hog, and then seeing an apparently beloved pet chicken feast on human remains.Bubba takes you through the boarded-up front door and you suddenly remember Drayton yelling something about Bubba ruining it on the first night you woke up here.How did he ruin it?Maybe one day you’ll ask, but for now you follow along silently as he takes you down the front steps and through an old wooden gate on the south side of the house.The sun is out in full-force by now and you’re almost instantly sweating - you hadn’t realized how cool the butchering room was compared to outside.You walk along a grassy pathway between two wooden fences and soon you hear the clucking and squawks of yet more chickens.A shabby little coop with a shabby little chicken-wired outdoor pen comes into sight, with what must be a dozen hens and a handful of roosters scratching around in the dirt.Bubba starts clucking at these, too, and they all rush over as he opens up the door to the outside pen and throws the contents of the gut bucket onto the ground inside.The chickens immediately go to town scratching and pecking at the remains and fighting one another for what are apparently the tastiest bits.You almost puke at the sight of several hens digging into a long string of intestines, and the memory of the eggs you had for breakfast that morning suddenly tastes sour in your mouth.Still clucking, Bubba enters the pen and he has to bend down quite a bit and turn to the side to fit through the door.He seems to hone in on one of the roosters before he bends down even more… and then his big hand darts out and snatches the rooster around both of its legs.It squawks and the other chickens startle for only a second, but then the rooster goes limp and quiet as Bubba holds it upside down and the rest of the chickens go back to their meal as if nothing had happened.He squeezes back out of the doorway and closes it up, then lickety-split he grabs the unfortunate roosters neck and twists its head right off as easily as the cap on a bottle of soda. 

You’re struck by the dichotomy between the way he’s just killed this chicken without hesitation and seemingly without a thought, while at the same time keeping and coddling a different one as a pet.You’ve always found it a bit odd which animals people choose to love verses the ones they choose to eat.It all seemed so arbitrary.You’d read about how pigs are actually smarter than dogs, but you admittedly never thought about it deeply enough to stop eating pork while still petting strangers dogs on the street.Somehow Bubba is able to select some animals to love and some to eat within even the same species, and then you realize that you fall into the exact same category as the chickens: he kills humans for food - apparently without a thought - but not you.Not so far, at least.You’re not sure if he likes you as much as he seems to like his pet hen, but as long as he likes you enough not to kill you like this rooster, you’ll take it.He puts the rooster carcass and head in the bucket, and lastly he opens up the door to the coop to collect the eggs.You wince as he gently places them in the same bucket - surely the Sawyers aren’t so poor that they can’t afford a few more buckets to break up these tasks?At least it’s not the same buckets you and grandpa have been pissing in… though considering there was just a human bladder and intestines in this one you suppose it doesn’t really matter at this point.Everything is gross, everything is awful, and you’re just going to have to get used to it until you can make your escape.

 

Bubba’s just as sweaty as you are at this point, if not more so, and you can see perspiration darkening the armpits and back of his already-dingy shirt as you follow him back towards the house.You wonder if it’s hot beneath his mask.Then you wonder if the Sawyers are so poor that they don’t own an electric fan.If you’re going to be stuck here for long you might actually ask Drayton to let you call the bank and wire some money from your account to him so he can buy one or two… and a basket for the eggs as well.You and Bubba reenter the house where he puts the chicken bucket on the counter beside the human head bucket and places the eggs in the fridge, then he pulls out another mason jar of blood and some sliced meat.He grabs three plates and opens up an old-fashioned bread box you’ve only just noticed on the counter and pulls out several slices, then starts making what looks like three sandwiches.He’s fixing lunch, including yours.Knowing what you now know about the Sawyers’s meat supply, you find your voice again and quietly ask, “Um, no meat or blood on mine, please, Bubba.”He gives you a puzzled look, and you’re glad you haven’t angered him by being too picky.“Uh, I’m just not used to eating blood or people meat.I can only eat other animals.”You’re really starting to wonder if he only eats humans because he’s been taught that it’s normal and okay, rather than him being evil or depraved.Given that he seems to be the youngest and judging by his apparent subservient status within the family he’s probably not the one who started this tradition.Is what looks like a cruel, sadistic disregard for human life simply him seeing people and animals as belonging to the same category?Some you love, some you eat, and it’s nothing personal towards the ones who end up on the table?Most of the cannibalistic killers you’d read about in school had accompanying maladjusted psycho-sexual issues driving their perverse activities, but so far you’ve seen no indication of such motivations in Bubba - or even Drayton, for that matter.Surely if you were going to be raped they would have done it already, Drayton’s mention of possible future breeding aside.But on the contrary Bubba has treated you quite politely considering the circumstances - hell, he’s been acting more like a shy boy than a brutal rapist or killer, and you feel just as confused about it as he looks about your refusing to eat meat.“Sorry,” you mumble, and though he still looks perplexed Bubba plucks the pieces of meat off one of the sandwiches.He thinks for a moment, then shuffles over to a cupboard and pulls out a dented can of beans and holds it up with a questioning look.“Yes, please, beans are wonderful, thank you!” you say gratefully, so he peels open the can and plops several big spoonfuls onto your sandwich.Cold beans on bread isn’t exactly what you would call gourmet fare, but it sure beats people meat and you aren’t about to complain.He hands you your plate and a glass of water with a little piglet squeal and you thank him again, then he collects his grandpa-tending equipment and you follow him upstairs.

 

He babbles a greeting to his grandparents as he sets his things down on the floor in their room, then he ties your leash to the doorknob again. You sit cross-legged on the floorboards and dig into your lunch - you hadn't realized until now how hungry you were, the gruesome sights you'd been subjected to having suppressed your appetite at the time.Bubba actually sits down next to you to eat his lunch as well, and it's one of the weirdest moments in your entire life. If someone had told you a week ago that you'd wind up sitting in a room eating a sandwich with your cannibalistic kidnapper and his decomposing grandparents as if he was your best friend at the school lunch table you'd have told them they were crazy.But here you are."That was good, thank you." you tell him when your cold beans on bread and water are gone, and he makes a happy little noise and grins, showing his crooked, oddly-shaped teeth.You watch patiently as he feeds his grandpa, then he waves his hands at you and grunts.This time you know what he means and you scoot around to face the wall.You have no desire to watch him help the old man with his toileting needs and also, strangely, you’re feeling no fear about keeping your back to him this time despite all you've seen him do today.

 

Once his grandfather has been assisted with his bladder and bowels and both grandparents get their doses of soft, loving kisses and pats, Bubba ties you to his wrist again and back to the kitchen you go to drop off the dishes. "Um, may I use the bathroom, please?" you request as you place your dishes in the sink, and Bubba nods and leads you to the bathroom… and to your dismay he follows you inside. You’re tempted to ask him why you had to wait outside for him while he still gets to be in here with you, but you don't want to press your luck - you're still his prisoner and he's already granted you nearly everything you've asked for and you don't want to wear out his generosity.Oh well, you're pretty much used to going while he's in the same room by now and you actually almost enjoy the mild schadenfreude you feel at his obvious discomfort.Not leaving you alone in here is a smart move on his part because there's a window above the cracked old bathtub that could easily be broken and used to cut your leash before leaping through it, and you add that to the growing list in your mind of possible escape routes. He turns his back to you and makes those low, uncomfortable bovine noises while you do your business and check out the room: there's no lid on the toilet and it looks like it hasn't been cleaned in decades. The tub is in almost as bad of shape, and clearly it's baths only here because there's no shower apparatus or curtain. One sorry-looking bar of soap sits on the sink next to grandpas catheter and Vaseline. The old fashioned wallpaper is a bit warped from humidity and there must be at least twenty animal skulls mounted on the wall directly across from where you're sitting.Like everything else in this house it's morbid and sad all at once. The flush of the toilet is weak and the water pressure of the sink isn't much better. You don't know much about plumbing or electrical systems, but it seems likely that it takes a lot out of the generator to pump water up from how deep in the earth wells in this climate surely have to be dug.

The tub doesn’t appear all that much cleaner than the toilet or sink, but looking at it still makes you want to take a bath.You’ve never gone so long without changing your underwear, and stewing in your own sweat without even any deodorant is starting to get to you.Under normal circumstances you’d be embarrassed by your stench, but you’re pretty sure that Bubba doesn’t even know what deodorant _is_ … and even if he does, you’d be highly surprised if he owned any.Fortunately he stinks more than you do, so hopefully he doesn’t notice or care about how you smell.He looks much sweatier than you are right now, no doubt thanks to his size and all the work he did butchering that person.Though the billows of his tucked-in shirt make him look heavier than he actually is, he’s still got quite a few extra pounds of chub, particularly around his belly and waist.Plus he seems to really crank out body heat because every time he’s held you against him he’s felt like a furnace.A big, strong, soft, fuzzy furnace.You’ve always run a bit on the cold side, and one of your favorite things to do is snuggle up close with your boyfriend in the cold winter months, soaking up his warmth and listening to a record or watching television together. _That_ is another job Bubba would no doubt excel at… then you kick yourself for even thinking such a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I'm trying hard to make this story as accurate to the film as I can, I realize that in the movie it appears that the kitchen and the butchering room are actually one and the same. But for the sake of this story I made them two separate rooms. Sorry to any purists out there! :(


	6. Chapter 6

You decide to ask for a bath later, and for now just wash your hands with that sad bar of soap as best you can with your bound wrists and follow him back to the kitchen.While you can cope with using the toilet while he’s in the room, you’re less certain you could cope with getting entirely naked and into a bathtub while he’s there holding you by a rope around your neck, regardless of whether or not he’s facing the other way.Something about that feels way too vulnerable - not to mention weirdly sexual - and it makes your face feel even hotter than it already does.You’re not sick of your own stink enough yet to put yourself in that position, and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll be able to hold out until he’s willing to leave you alone in the bathroom.Or until you escape.Whichever comes first.

Bubba washes the lunch dishes, then starts plucking the feathers from the recently-dispatched rooster and placing them in the empty gut bucket.Having grown up in more urban areas, you've never seen this before and it's actually somewhat interesting.It's definitely easier to watch than what happened to the man in the freezer in the room next door.Once the chicken is completely bald Bubba puts it in the sink and leads you back to the living room.He dumps the feathers on the floor with the ones that are already there, but he seems to be at a loss about what to do next.You both sit down on the bone-adorned sofa and he just starts fidgeting, repeatedly patting and rubbing his palms against his thighs while he looks around the room as if searching for something.It's awkward, and when you can't stand the silence anymore you finally say, "Did you make all this stuff? All the bone lamps and everything?"

He seems relieved to have something to talk about, and talk he does - you only wish you could understand him.He eventually points to a human skull with what looks like a cow horn shoved through the mouth and poking out the back that's hanging from the ceiling."You made that?" you guess.

"Uh-huh!" he says proudly.

"How about this one?"You point to a lamp made out of a rib cage that might be human, or perhaps it belongs to a goat or a sheep - you hope it's the latter.

"Uh-uh," he replies, shaking his head.

"Did Drayton make it?"

Bubba shakes his head again and makes an unmistakably mournful, choking sort of noise.

"Did Nubbins make it?" you ask quietly, and he nods as a soft, distressed, nonstop whimper spills from the mouth of his mask.Now might be an excellent time to try and win some points with him, so you say in your most gentle tone, "I heard about what happened. I'm really sorry."It's actually not entirely a lie.Bubba is clearly capable of feeling love, so he can't be a complete and total psychopath and you feel for anyone who has suffered the loss of a loved one.You glance at him and his lower lip is quivering a little.Is he actually going to cry?You're suddenly feeling conflicted: obviously Nubbins got what was coming to him.He assaulted Franklin Hardesty with a straight razor just because Franklin and his friends were nice enough to pick him up off the side of the road, then he got hit by a truck while chasing down a girl he had tortured.But then again, Bubba had actually _murdered_ someone with a chainsaw rather than just cutting them with a little razor, so it's not like he deserves your sympathy, either.And yet, inexplicably, you feel it all the same.

You don’t think you can handle the weirdness of seeing your kidnapper cry over his dead brother so you keep asking him about each piece of _"art"_ in the room.Before long you start to notice a pattern: all of Bubba's creations are relatively simple, just held together with wire or string, though some have holes drilled in them or parts sawed off.But all of the more elaborate ones were created by his late brother, including everything with any sort of electrical component.You remember Drayton muttering about Nubbins not being _"quite as stupid"_ as Bubba, and you wonder just how much smarter he was.Clearly he was smart enough to work with electricity without killing himself or burning the house down.You also recall Drayton telling you that Nubbins would normally have been the one to take you to the phone booth with a knife against your throat to force you to quit your job.Was Nubbins the ringleader of all of this torture, murder and cannibalism?Drayton doesn’t seem to be shy about insulting the intelligence of either of his brothers, but perhaps that’s just how he is and the criticism isn’t actually deserved.Although granted, despite being competent - even skilled - at the tasks you’ve seen him perform so far, Bubba does appear to be at least mildly retarded - possibly even moderately so.Ranking the level of mental disability in people isn’t what you were trained in, you just have to compare him to some of the residents you worked with at the group home.But he’s definitely not _severely_ retarded, and Drayton was absolutely exaggerating when he said Bubba was too debilitated to even leave the house.And even though he doesn’t really speak words, he obviously understands everything that is said to him so he could in fact have corroborated Drayton’s alibi had you asked him… although now of course you know that Drayton’s alibi was false.

 

The afternoon whiles away into evening, and it's spent sitting awkwardly together on the bone sofa with you staring at the morbid decor and Bubba staring at you while his pet chicken occasionally clucks.You wonder how he would normally be spending his time right now if he wasn't keeping an eye on you.Maybe making more arts and crafts with Nubbins?About an hour before darkness falls Bubba leads you outside and back to the chicken coop, where he throws a few handfuls of chicken feed from a dented metal can beside the coop on the ground.He brings a handful of feed back inside for his pet as well, and as you watch the bedraggled hen peck at her dinner you realize you’re beginning to feel hungry yourself - your beans on bread with water is starting to get lonely.At last you hear the sound of a car outside, then Drayton walks through the front door looking rather disgruntled.Bubba immediately hurries towards him with that shuffling gait of his and you hurry to follow so he doesn't inadvertently choke you.

"Had to get a ride home from Jed Allen since I dropped your car off at the sheriff's this mornin' before they come lookin' for it.Good thing Tex is the laziest bastard in the county, didn't even notice it weren't you droppin' it off.Took for damn ever to get there'n back." Drayton grumbles, and you sigh to yourself.It seems that you aren't the only one who’s noticed your former boss’s lack of work ethic."You behave yerself today?" Drayton asks his little brother as he heads into the kitchen, and Bubba babbles something that you can't quite identify the tone of as he follows, dragging you along behind him.“Did’ja kill that rooster like I told ya’?” Drayton asks crankily.

“Uh-huh!” Bubba replies, and he pulls the plucked carcass out of the sink and holds it up.

Drayton's tired, grumpy expression suddenly turns mean."You didn't even put it in the fridge?What time did you kill it?You tryin' to make everybody sick?It’s damn near 80 degrees in here!”

You can see Bubba's anxiety level ratchet up as he tries to explain, but you have no clue if his brother can understand him any better than you can.Then Drayton notices the bucket with the human head in it and he looks even angrier."You forgot to put this in the fridge, too, you goddamn nitwit!"

Bubba's anxiety feels like it's off the charts at this point, and soon you understand why: Drayton grabs a stick leaning against the wall in the corner and before you know it he's smacking Bubba hard on the shoulder and arm as Bubba backs away from him while trying to shield himself, desperately babbling what you can only assume is an explanation or an apology - or both.

"If you had half a brain you could pay attention to more'n one thing, but that girl distracted you, didn't she?I knew I shouldn'tve let you keep her!You shoulda killed her right after she made that phone call!“ Drayton snarls and you suddenly feel guilty that apparently you threw Bubba off his game enough that now he's getting beaten for it... but you're mostly just worried that his slip-up might get you killed.Then to your complete surprise, he actually brings one arm from where he was attempting to block the stick and instead holds it out in front of you, shielding you as well even though Drayton isn't even coming close to hitting you.Bubba’s whines get even more pathetic and Drayton looks so frustrated that it almost feels like his head might explode."But you ain't gonna do it, are ya'?" he shouts and Bubba shakes his head."Goddamn pigshit fool..." Drayton mutters, but at least he finally lowers the stick."Go upstairs and get your grandpa while I clean up all this mess and get supper on the table.You just better hope this stuff ain’t rotten beyond salvation!“ he snaps and Bubba nods as he backs up out of the room, taking you with him.He ties you to your chair like always, but you notice that he doesn't wrap the rope around you quite as many times as before.It's still enough that you have no hope of escape, but it seems like a promising development… unless he's simply too flustered to do it as thoroughly as he usually does.He hurries out of the room, leaving you there staring at that gross cookie sheet full of rotten meat across the table.If Drayton’s so worried about food going bad then why is there a pile of it right in front of you?You frown to yourself thinking about what had just happened: that’s twice in the few days you’ve been here that Drayton has physically - and verbally, for that matter - abused Bubba for what seems to you like incredibly minor offenses.Well, okay, perhaps kidnapping a police officer isn’t exactly a _“minor”_ offense… and you suppose not letting food go to waste is extremely important for people living in such poverty.But still… beating your retarded younger brother like a dog for what seem to be honest mistakes sits wrong in your mind.

Before too long you hear Bubba's heavy footsteps behind you, and he sets his grandpa down in the chair at the head of the table once more.The old man doesn't even seem to be conscious and you wonder what the point of bringing him down here for dinner each night is.Bubba gives him several of his sweet little pats and kisses before heading back towards the living room, and you're glad that grandpa isn't trying to start a conversation with you.Bubba's still not back when Drayton enters the dining room with fried chicken, collards and the remaining beans from the can Bubba opened for your lunch."Leavin' out chickens and beans and perfectly good meat... halfwit." Drayton grumbles as he plops the food on the table.

You can't contain your curiosity anymore. "So what's with the pile of _"meat"_ right there?” you ask snottily, nodding towards the fly-infested pile of gore across from you.

"That ain't _"meat"_.That's family." he replies, and you feel the bile rise in your throat.So that is indeed fabric mixed in among the gore.Fabric that once made up clothing.Clothing worn by none other than Nubbins Sawyer.You don't even know how to respond.Keeping the dried-out corpse of a loved one is one thing - albeit a weird, gross thing - but keeping a pile of literal roadkill at the dinner table because it used to be your brother is one of the most psychotic things you've witnessed here so far, and that's saying a lot.

Just then Bubba returns wearing a mask and outfit you haven't seen yet: a dark blue suit that's a few sizes too small and the pale, heavily powdered and poorly made-up face of what used to be a woman with curly black hair.It's probably the most horrific one you've seen him wear yet, with it's messed-up right eye and loose, split, floppy chin.It does, however, give you a glimpse of a bit more of his face and you see sideburns and a few curls of his own dark, wavy hair sticking out from beneath the hair of the dead woman."Wow, fancy. Your suit looks nice, Bubba." you tell him.Actually the suit is rather dirty and could stand to be let out quite a bit, but you can't bring yourself to compliment that awful mask and being nice to him is getting you pretty good results so far so you're going to keep it up.Bubba seems pleased and a little bit shy, but Drayton is not impressed.

"I see what you're up to," he growls, waggling his fork at you from across the table, "Tryin' to flatter your way into his good graces."He points his fork at Bubba next."Don't you listen to her, she's tryin to trick you with her feminine wiles."

Bubba doesn't reply beyond shrugging, but you see him slump down in his chair like someone just took the wind right out of his sails and he pushes his beans around on his plate with his fork with all of the enthusiasm of a resentful teenager.

You're on the verge of sarcastically saying something to Drayton about how your _"feminine wiles"_ shouldn't be bad thing if he's expecting you and Bubba to make babies together, but you don't want to remind him of that threat.So instead you sneer, "What _"feminine wiles"_? In case you haven't noticed, I'm wearing a police uniform and I stink like a pigpen."Much to your chagrin Drayton barks out a laugh at that, and you frown and continue, "Look, if you're gonna keep me here forever then I may as well get used to it, right?So, if his suit looks nice I'm going to say so.And that chicken looks good, too, so I'm going to say so.And I hope you don't think I'm trying to win _you_ over with any _“feminine wiles”_ , because I promise you that is not the case.”You know you're being mouthy, but damn if he doesn't know how to push your buttons.Fortunately instead of getting angry with you he just laughs again.At your mention of the chicken Bubba immediately picks up a piece and offers it to you, and you take a bite.It really is delicious, and you have to admit that Drayton seems to be quite a talented cook.No wonder he can get away with selling human barbecue to the public with no one the wiser.Suddenly you remember thinking earlier that his roadside restaurant was probably breaking several health codes and it strikes you as morbidly hilarious and you bark out a laugh as well.Health code violations indeed.It really shouldn't be funny, but apparently you're finally cracking under the stress of your situation and you can’t stop laughing at the absurdity and horror of it all.Bubba lets out a happy-sounding squeal despite him not possibly knowing what's so funny, and soon you're laughing so hard that tears are streaming down your cheeks.Bubba howls right along with you and pounds his fists against the table in a happy little sort of dance until Drayton yells at you both to shut up.What a killjoy.No wonder Bubba wants to keep you around.

 

You writhe against your restraints once Drayton returns to the kitchen to clean up and Bubba takes his grandpa back upstairs, but it’s useless.You’re rubbing the skin of your wrists red and raw without having any impact on the integrity of the rope that’s binding them, and squirming against the ropes around your torso is even more futile.You stop struggling when Bubba returns, still wearing his suit, and he unties you and leads you back to the living room.He turns on a very old-fashioned radio that you didn’t even notice beneath all it’s bone adornments, and you sit together on the sofa and listen to the local news and weather before the music starts up.Drayton joins you before long, once again taking his seat in that animal-skin armchair.Despite the weird-smelling room and the fact that it’s filled with feathers and bones and the two men who kidnapped you, all in all it’s an okay way to spend the evening.At least the act of listening to the radio is normal.You’ve been pretty tired all day save for the moments of sheer panic when you thought Bubba might butcher you with his chainsaw, and soon you start to nod off.You startle out of your slumber when you’re suddenly enveloped with warmth and you pop open your eyes to find that Bubba’s picked you right up off the sofa and is carrying you bridal-style towards the stairs.

“I’m awake, it’s okay, you don’t have to carry me, I can walk!” you stutter, pushing at his chest a bit with your tied-together hands and trying to get as far away from that horrible, clown-like mask as possible.He sets you down and holds your leash instead, and when you meet his eyes they look somehow… sad?You’re not really sure.Maybe disappointed is a better word.Either way it’s weird.But even if he _is_ disappointed that you’re not allowing him to carry you, your sympathy and willingness to play along with him is overpowered by your desire not to be near that dead woman’s face.Not to mention Bubba’s smelling pretty pungent in his dirty wool suit after another hot Texas day.You would happily have the bank wire over more money from your account if it meant getting that suit dry cleaned… and the rest of his clothes, for that matter.Plus being held close against him reminds you of your rough, sweaty, disturbing sex dreams from the night before and you hope you won’t have any more of them tonight.

Bubba lets you stop at the bathroom before going back upstairs, then he ties and tucks you into bed like always while making soft little chicken squawks and piglet squeals.It’s right then that you notice the sizable tear in the right thigh of his suit pants, and what looks like a pretty severe, partially-healed wound beneath the tear.“Whoa, what happened to your leg?” you ask, nodding towards the injury.He makes a series of noises and gestures, clearly trying to pantomime the incident, but you have no idea what he’s saying and you’re too tired to care enough to keep trying.“Ouch,” you murmur, and he nods.Then he gives you three pats on your shoulder and two on the top of your head with his big, meaty hand and babbles something that sounds like it might mean _“goodnight”_.“Goodnight, Bubba,” you yawn, and his soft chicken squawk gets fainter and fainter as he turns off the light and closes the bedroom door behind him.You’re too exhausted to try and break free from your restraints tonight and instead give your poor wrists a break and fall deep into sleep right away.That night you dream of being devoured alive by chickens with human eyes, but no matter how hard you scream you can’t wake yourself up.


	7. Chapter 7

You groan when you hear the creak of your door opening, followed shortly by Bubba’s soft little _“good morning”_ noises.Why does he have to start his day so damn early?Surely grandpa can wait another few hours before getting his bladder emptied.Or even better, why doesn’t Bubba just leave you in bed while he does that particular chore?He must either really enjoy your company, or is afraid of you escaping if you’re out of his sight for too long, or he just wants to make you suffer.Perhaps all three.“Morning, Bubba,” you mumble as you pry open your eyes to greet him.Even though you got a bit more sleep last night thanks to not spending half of it trying to break free from your restraints, the nightmares haven’t left you feeling all that well-rested.You’d rather have the sweaty-sex-with-a-boar-man dreams than the being-eaten-by-chicken-monsters ones from last night, if you had to choose… though not having any dreams at all would be preferable.

He gives you a little squeal in reply, sounding way too chipper considering how early it is, and then you notice he’s holding something - thankfully not a chainsaw.He sets it down at the foot of the bed before he pulls back your blanket and starts untying you, and once you can sit up you see that it’s clothing.It seems he’s brought you something else to wear besides your uniform.You wonder if he’d noticed you saying you stunk like a pigpen and this is a gesture of kindness of his part, or if he agrees that you stink and therefore he’s trying to do himself a favor by decreasing some of your stench.Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.“Is that for me?” you ask once you’re sitting properly on the bed with your legs hanging over the edge.You tilt your head towards the wad of red and blueish fabric and he babbles and nods as he shuffles down towards the end of the bed to pick it up.He hasn’t taken hold of your leash yet and if you were completely insane you could throw yourself out the window right now.But you’re on the second floor and even if you didn’t sever a major artery going through the glass or break your ankles once you hit the ground, you still wouldn’t be able to outrun him once he made it downstairs.Your escape is going to have to be stealthy rather than dramatic.Bubba holds up a blue-and-orangeish patterned halter top and shows it to you, babbling excitedly.He then picks up a pair of very short red women’s shorts with a black belt.It’s not an outfit you would choose for yourself, but it will definitely be more comfortable in this heat than your uniform.They look like they should fit… then it dawns on you where he had to have acquired such clothing.Unless he’s got a sister you have yet to meet, here is proof positive that women are not exempt from ending up in the Sawyer’s freezer.You take a moment in your mind to send an apology to the no-doubt dead former-owner of these clothes, but just as you’re about to thank your benefactor he holds up a pair of very skimpy, lace-trimmed panties.Clearly these complete the outfit.It’s hard to tell since you can’t see his face, but his body language makes it seem like he’s intensely embarrassed by this last item and it’s kind of adorable.At least he’s more embarrassed than you are right now, but there’s a more important matter than modesty on your mind.

“Have those been washed?” you ask though you’re pretty sure the answer is _“no”_ , and Bubba shakes his head as expected.“I’d like to wash them first before I put them on, please, but the shirt and shorts will be great right now.Thank you.”You smile at him to try and diffuse any bad feelings he might have about you refusing to put on the used panties, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, he just puts them in his pants pocket and drops the shirt and shorts on your lap as he nods.“Uh, I don’t think I can get dressed with my wrists tied like this,” you remind him, holding them up for him to see.That didn’t seem to have occurred to him, and for some reason it appears to trigger a considerable amount of anxiety.His eyes go wide behind his mask and he brings his hands up and starts slapping his palms against the sides of his head.Not too hard, thankfully, but it’s still uncomfortable to watch.It’s almost like he’s trying to smack the answer to this dilemma into his brain and you don’t know how to comfort him.Either he’s going to have to dress you himself or he’s going to have to untie your wrists, and oh Lord, you pray he’ll choose the latter.You can’t believe you’re actually about to give him tips on how to keep you captive, but you really do want the change of clothes so you say, “You can just hold the leash if you untie my wrists, I won’t run or try to untie it.”He whines nervously and continues to fidget, but at least he stops tapping the sides of his head.After what feels like five minutes of watching him panic, Bubba finally ties your leash around his forearm and then unties your wrists.He’s fumbling a little and not looking at you, but then he stops and makes one of those distressed-bovine bellows when he pulls the rope away and sees your raw, friction-burned skin.

“Oh yeah, that.” you shrug, trying to sound casual though in your mind you hope he’ll decide not to subject you to this cruel and unusual punishment anymore.“It’s hard to sleep with my hands tied like this, I guess I rub them against the rope when I’m sleeping.”You leave out the part about how you’ve also been struggling for hours every night and day trying to free yourself.He whimpers and gently pats your forearm, then pats the clothing on your lap and turns around so he’s no longer facing you.You immediately bring your hands to the rope around your neck and feel the knot, trying to deduce what kind it is and if it’s something you'd be able to untie if ever given the chance.You think you could manage it, but now is not the time - any failed attempt to escape in front of Bubba will set you back who knows how long in your efforts to get him to let down his guard.You quickly stand and shed your uniform and pull on the dead woman’s clothes instead, and take the opportunity to turn your own underwear inside out while you’re at it - it’s better than nothing.You keep an eye on Bubba in case he tries to sneak a peek, but he’s resolutely facing the wall with his broad shoulders hunched in what feels like a self-protective posture… and he might even be trembling a little.Once again you thank whatever God might still be listening that your captor isn’t a pervert or rapist.In fact, Drayton might have his work cut out for him if he’s expecting Bubba to take on the role of breeding stud.For some reason you can’t identify, applying that term to Bubba unexpectedly makes heat flare up in your face and you hurriedly fasten your belt and look away from him.You give yourself another minute to let your blush die down, then tell him you’re finished.“Thank you again, this will be much cooler when it gets hot out today.”Although this outfit is considerably more revealing than your uniform, Bubba seems to relax now that you’re fully clothed again and he makes a pleased little squeal to acknowledge your thanks.You haven’t shaved your legs or armpits in five days at this point, but it’s not like you’re trying to impress him or his brother.Besides, even if you never shaved for the rest of your life you still wouldn’t get even a fraction as hairy as Bubba is… and you prefer not to know or think about Drayton’s body hair situation.

He doesn't re-tie your wrists and in your mind you're celebrating because if he keeps it up that drastically improves your odds of escaping.He takes you out to refill the generator and you shiver a bit in the still-cool early morning air, but it feels wonderful - like your skin can breathe along with your lungs.Then it's off to the kitchen, then the bathroom, then his grandparents room, and then back down to the kitchen where Drayton is just finishing up preparing breakfast."How's your grandpa this morning?" he asks without even looking up from the frying pan, and you wonder if he ever bothers to greet Bubba as well as asking after his grandfather.Bubba makes a calm-sounding noise that indicates nothing has changed since yesterday, then reaches for some plates to start setting the table.Drayton looks up at last and takes in your new outfit."Well now, don't you look pretty?" he says with a big grin.He sounds like a proud, loving father complimenting his daughter on her wedding day or something, and it grosses you right out.Whatever happened to his concern about your _"feminine wiles"_?Based on his rapidly-changing moods you're starting to suspect he's suffering from some sort of schizophrenic personality disorder along with whatever sickness allows him to cook, eat and sell people."Much prettier than that sorry ol' hen Bubba's got crappin' all over the living room,” he continues.You're not thrilled to have your looks compared to a chicken and you want to tell him that chicken shit is far from the worst thing in that room, but just then he notices that your wrists are untied and he nearly drops the spatula of fried eggs on its way to the plate.

"What in the goddamn hell are you doin', untying her hands!?I might as well just go drop her off at the sheriffs right now and be done with it since you're so damned determined to let her escape!" he thunders, but Bubba grabs your arm rather roughly and waves it at his brother while making unhappy cow-like noises.His hand is huge and thick - and strong - and it makes your arm look tiny and weak despite how you keep yourself in pretty good shape."What're you moanin' about?" Drayton snaps, and Bubba makes a more insistent, increasingly unhappy sound and points to the red, raw place on your wrist caused by the rope."You’re worried about her wrists gettin' tore up?When did you get so sentimental?"Bubba whines pitifully and Drayton rolls his eyes so hard they look like they might fall out of his skull."Tie her back up!Otherwise she's gonna take off the leash and make a break for it, ya' damn fool!” he orders, brandishing the spatula threateningly.

That spurs Bubba into obedience and he reluctantly re-binds your wrists while making what sounds like apologetic noises, then leads you to the dining room.  Once you're strapped to your chair the men bring out the food: it's _"bacon"_ , eggs and toast this morning, and you're impressed that Bubba's remembered your request from the other day when he doesn't put any meat on your plate.  You're still not super excited about the eggs after what you saw the chickens eat yesterday, but you can't just keep asking for beans - especially not in front of Drayton.  It's silent for several minutes save for the clink of silverware and the buzzing of the flies colonizing what's left of Nubbins, then finally Drayton speaks up: "I think I got an idea how to take care of this."  He doesn't elaborate beyond that and you pray his solution doesn't involve your death or dismemberment or something equally unpleasant.  He leaves right after eating to go open the gas station, and you and Bubba continue your day together.

After cleaning up the kitchen it's off to the living room where he blindfolds you while he changes into his short-haired male mask, then into the butchering room.After tying you to the gallows again he puts on his yellow apron and reaches into that door behind you and pulls out the corpse of a woman - but unlike the man he chopped up yesterday, this one is already naked and missing her head and hands.She looks about your size and you wonder if she was the unwilling donor of your current clothing.You brace yourself for another round of carnage, but instead of putting her on the butchers block Bubba shuffles his grip on her till she's upside down, then he lifts her up to pierce one of the meat hooks through her right ankle.He does the same with her left ankle on the other hook, leaving her strung up like a deer.The body is hanging way too close to where you’re tied and you scoot as far away as you can when Bubba retrieves a very sharp-looking hunting knife.  He sticks her in one ankle, then to your utter horror he starts skinning her and you close your eyes tightly.The process takes quite a while, but at last you hear a wet, heavy plop as the hide drops into the metal tub beneath her.Despite yourself, you crack open your eyes just in time to see him stick the knife into her abdomen between her navel and mons, then he drags the knife down towards her neck.You quickly close your eyes again and hear another wet plop of guts, and the smell of blood and raw meat threatens to make you lose your breakfast.You find it odd how Bubba got incredibly flustered just by giving you a pair of panties and your changing clothes behind him when he seems completely unfazed by handling and working on this naked woman.Again, somehow he seems to be able to see some people as not really people, but simply as pieces of meat.You wish you had your abnormal psychology textbooks with you to see if this is a well-known characteristic of cannibals… then suddenly you remember a trait that so many serial killers who chop up their victims share: sexual deviancy.Oh God, what if Bubba gets his rocks off by molesting the corpses of his victims?It's clear he doesn't know how to deal with a living woman when it comes to anything even remotely intimate like underwear and using the bathroom, so does that mean he's only comfortable with women who are dead?Is he comfortable enough with them to have sex with their corpses?That might be the worst thought you've had this entire time, mostly because of how revolting it is, but there's also a feeling that you would somehow be upset on a more personal level that you can't quite define.It's almost like you'd be disappointed in him... in this man who has shown only sweet gentleness towards everything and everyone you've seen him interact with so far... save for the two humans and chicken he chopped up in front of you.But even that didn't seem all that bad, because he didn't seem to do any of it with malice, nor did he seem to take pleasure in it.He was just doing his job.For some reason you can rationalize his dehumanizing people when it comes to providing food for his impoverished family, but defiling them sexually feels inexcusable.Though of course there's the fact that he's desecrated graves as well, which is also a very disgusting, dehumanizing act... but what if Bubba didn't partake in that activity?Was Drayton telling the truth about Bubba not leaving the house?Does that mean Nubbins or Drayton himself did the grave robbing?Considering Bubba's apparently pathological resistance to letting people see him without a mask on it seems like it would be extra-risky to have him skulking around the cemetery while wearing it - if somebody saw him the jig would be up, even if he wasn’t actually caught mid-robbery.

You can’t bring yourself to ask him about his sexual proclivities and if they include dead bodies - how in the hell would _that_ conversation go?But you do decide to try and probe for a little more information later on about if he ever leaves the house or takes off the mask in front of people.

 

Once the carcass is neatly packaged and stacked in the freezer he takes you to the bathroom so you can both go, and after you flush the toilet and tell him your shorts are back on he turns around and pulls those skimpy, lacy panties out of his pocket.He hands them to you and says something as he points to the soap on the sink, and you take this as your cue to wash them as you’d requested earlier.You hurriedly do so, then hang them from the antler of one of the mounted skulls on the wall to dry.The rest of the day is spent much like the previous one: all of the chickens are fed and watered, lunch is prepared and eaten (this time you get cold leftover fried chicken on your bread with water), and grandpa is tended to.After all that Bubba takes you outside into the still-hot early evening and through a wooden gate and into a field absolutely loaded with sunflowers.You hadn't really paid attention to the fact that there are flowers here - you've been solely focused on possible escape routes - and it's stunningly pretty.There doesn't seem to be any rhyme nor reason to the placement of the flowers, no garden beds or neat little rows, but the sprawling wildness of them is even more appealing to you."Did you plant these?" you ask and Bubba nods, surprising you a little.Here is another unexpectedly sweet facet to the personality of this kidnapping, cannibalistic butcher."They're so beautiful," you murmur as he leads you along a small path to the side of one of the larger barns on the property, and he squeals happily.There's a faucet on a metal pipe sticking out of the ground with a hose attached to it, and when Bubba turns the handle you hear a sprinkler start up.So not only does he do the heavy lifting in processing meat for Drayton to sell, but he takes care of the animals and his grandpa and tends to the garden as well.It seems that his brother doesn't give him nearly enough credit for all he does to keep the household running.Sure, Drayton earns the money and cooks the meals - fortunately, as Bubba's lunch efforts so far leave much to be desired - but that also means he's away from home most of the day.The labor of housewives has always been criminally undervalued by society, in your opinion, and it seems that Bubba's is as well.

You return to the front yard and sit on a wooden bench swing just past the disorganized little orchard between you and the house.The swing creaks when Bubba sits down and you hope it can support your combined weight... he is _not_ a small man.You just sit together in strangely companionable silence, watching birds and butterflies flit through the orchard as the sun begins to set.In any other circumstance it would be rather romantic.Right before it gets too dark to see the chickens are fed again and the sprinkler is turned off, and just then Drayton's old truck comes rattling down the driveway.Bubba waves as he hurries towards the truck, and you wonder how he can possibly be excited to see someone who treats him so poorly.You suppose it's most likely all he's ever known... and as you're quickly learning yourself, isolation and lack of options can make one latch onto any available companionship, no matter how dysfunctional.

Fortunately Drayton seems to be in a good mood at the moment, and he gets out of the truck with a big, unsettling smile on his face."I brought home a little something ta' help keep your girl outta trouble."You don't know what you were expecting, but the thick leather collar with a chain attached wasn't it.Drayton's voice takes on a decidedly sadistic edge as he advances on you while holding the collar open, and he's even laughing in a way that suggests he's enjoying this just a little too much even though he still sounds weirdly nervous.It's like the sane part of his mind knows he's doing something messed up, but the sick part of his mind likes it.You're starting to get pretty used to Bubba handling you and your restraints, but you instinctively recoil from his brother and back away from the old man... but then you back right up into Bubba and can go no further.He puts his hands on your shoulders as you press back into his strong, soft stomach and chest, just trying to get away from Drayton... but the collar goes around your neck anyway.Then Drayton pulls a padlock out of his pocket and locks the buckle of your collar, and somehow this feels even more humiliating than the rope.With the rope you could at least pretend it was temporary... but this is a piece of equipment purchased specifically for keeping you captive and it’s awful.

“Hopefully you ain’t too fat for this,” he says as he hands Bubba a leather belt of his own, and despite your current personal turmoil you think that’s a little unfair. _“Husky”_ , perhaps, or maybe _“hefty”_  are appropriate descriptors for Bubba, but _“fat”_ seems a bit much.Drayton instructs him to put it on and loop your chain around it, attaching you together neck-to-waist like a weird pair of conjoined twins.“Now then, you still better keep your eyes on her every damn minute, you hear me?With her hands freed up she might try somethin’ tricky.” he says sternly and Bubba nods and makes a squawk of understanding.You’re too depressed to even think about doing anything tricky right at the moment, you just follow your captors back into the house for a rather subdued dinner.That night you don’t have any dreams at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP, Pam, we barely knew ye.


	8. Chapter 8

Two more weeks pass by in much the same way as the first, as the Sawyer’s days and nights are generally pretty routine with only slight variations.Today includes one of those variations, and that afternoon Bubba takes you out into one of the many ramshackle outbuildings on the property.When he slides open the door you find a wooden rack with what looks like a small animal hide stretched across it… only it’s not a hide at all: it is a human face.A woman, specifically, and next to her stretched out face is her scalp with shoulder-length light brown hair.It’s hard to tell from the way the features are distorted and with the eyes gouged out, but she looks like she might have been pretty.You cringe thinking of how this could have easily been your fate… perhaps if you hadn’t treated Bubba kindly right from the beginning, if you hadn’t spoken to him like a person instead of screaming and panicking like an animal.He pulls the skins off of the rack and leads you over to a nearby work table, and you stand by his side as he uses a very thick needle and sturdy thread to sew the pieces back together.He’s making a new mask.Even though most of his bone creations throughout the house are relatively simple, he seems quite skilled at this particular craft and you can’t help but watch in morbid fascination as he works.Suddenly you imagine him doing needlepoint and you almost laugh - that would definitely be a healthier outlet for his creative urges.The process takes a long time, and when he finally appears to have finished he picks it up and proudly shows it to you like a kid showing off their school art project.Then you’re utterly startled when he says what unmistakably sounds like, “Pretty”.

You’re so taken off guard that it takes you a second to respond, but at last you manage to stutter, “Y-yes, it is pretty.”In the back of your mind you vaguely note that you’re disturbingly un-disturbed by the mask itself and the act of making it, but rather that you were more alarmed by the fact that he spoke a recognizable word besides _“uh-huh”_ and _“uh-uh”_.He looks even more proud at your approval and you go back inside to the living room where he blindfolds you as he always does when changing his mask.Apparently he’s eager to try on his new face.When he unties your blindfold you’re greeted with his big, crooked-toothed smile - it seems he’s pleased with his work.“Very pretty,” you compliment him, for it’s at least better looking than the overly-powdered and poorly-made-up dark-haired female mask he sometimes wears during dinner.He picks up a small hand mirror and holds it up so he can inspect himself, turning his head side-to-side to check every angle.Then he reaches into a small box and pulls out a tube of bright red lipstick.He apparently intends to make himself even prettier, but if he does as sloppy of a job on this one as he did on his other mask then he’s gonna end up looking like a clown and that is definitely not something you enjoy seeing.So before he can touch the stick to the lips of the mask you venture, “Can I do that for you?We can make each other pretty.”You added that last part so he hopefully won’t be offended - maybe if you make it sound like a slumber-party activity rather than you pointing out his incompetence he’ll be more open to it.Fortunately he looks absolutely delighted and squeals happily as he hands you the lipstick.

This is yet another weird experience to add to your lengthy tally of weirdness since your kidnapping: carefully applying lipstick to the leathery face of a dead girl being worn by a huge, hairy man.Though honestly, Bubba’s apparent indifference to traditional gender roles is actually rather refreshing.“How does that look?” you ask him once you’ve done the best you can do given the canvas you’re working with, and he holds up the mirror and makes happy noises as he nods.He takes the lipstick from you and you brace yourself to have it smeared all over your face like his other mask, but it seems he’s taken note of your technique because he doesn’t go too terribly overboard.It’s still sloppy and he doesn’t stay within the lines of your lips very well, but it’s not much worse than your first attempts at making yourself up back in your adolescence.Maybe he’ll get better at it over time, since judging by how happy he seems right now you suspect that playing dress-up may turn into a regular activity.He hands you some black eyeliner next and you get to work, applying it along the eye holes of his mask in a glamorous cats-eye style.“How about this?Do you like it?” you ask him, and he babbles excitedly and nods even more vigorously.You close your eyes and hope he doesn’t poke you in the eyeball too hard, but even though his attempt to copy your work falls drastically short he manages to avoid blinding you with the applicator.Next comes rouge, which has never been your favorite item of makeup.It’s so easy to go overboard and end up looking like you have a skin problem, and Bubba went _extremely_ overboard with it on his other mask.You lightly dust it over where his cheekbones should be, hoping that it will be enough to satisfy him, and he looks so excited now that he seems to hardly be able to stand it.He does the same for you, once again trying to mimic your methods, and you both finish up with some mascara.“Taa-dah!” you announce with a smile as you lean in close to him and hold the little mirror out far enough for you to both barely see parts of your faces in it together, and Bubba claps his hands and giggles.Despite yourself you’re actually having fun as well - his enthusiasm is contagious and for a moment it really does feel like a slumber party with a friend back when you were young and raiding your mother’s make up stash.

Bubba is in a particularly good mood after that, and he goes about the rest of his chores with an extra spring in his step.He even tucks the mirror into his pocket so he can take it out and admire his new face from time to time.When Drayton comes home Bubba grabs a camera off of the work table in the living room and holds it up for his brother to see, babbling insistently.Drayton rolls his eyes and mutters about what a silly fool Bubba is, but he seems pleased that everything is under control and that Bubba hasn’t made any missteps in his household duties today, so he humors his little brother and takes the camera from him.Bubba unexpectedly wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close against his side, and you’re unprepared for it and your cheek smooshes into his chest.It wasn’t quite as hot today as it has been lately so he doesn’t stink too badly of sweat - he actually smells rather good in that raw, masculine way and you quickly move your head so it’s not pressed right up against him.You muster up a weak smile as the camera flash goes off, and all you can think about is that this might be good evidence when you manage to escape and get to the police station.Whenever that happens.You’re starting to feel more and more discouraged about your odds of escaping anytime soon.

 

Bubba keeps the same mask on for dinner, but before you sit down he digs through a bucket on the floor by a surprisingly regular-looking sofa in the living room until he finds a big, gaudy necklace to go with his pretty-girl face.He puts it on and takes off his necktie, and you compliment him again on how nice he looks.You join Drayton and grandpa in the dining room and fill your own plate with collards and cornbread, once again passing on the barbecue.Knowing what it is, you’re disturbed by how good it smells: like particularly succulent pork.A few days ago Nubbins’s remains were finally put in a plastic bag along with larger, more-intact pieces of him that were in a box sitting on his chair that you hadn’t noticed initially, and while it’s still on the table at least the stink of rotting meat has been drastically reduced.Your wrists are well healed from their previous rope burns, but Bubba didn’t retie them and you’re glad.Feeding yourself feels much better than him treating you like a baby or an invalid like his grandpa.

“Do you ever take your masks off?Like, when you leave the house or anything?”You’re speaking to Bubba, but you hope that perhaps Drayton will chime in with a bit more information.Bubba shakes his head, and Drayton speaks up just like you hoped:

“He don’t take it off no more, the big idiot.Hasn’t ever since he got shitcanned from the slaughterhouse.Ain’t never left the house since then, neither.”

This is extremely interesting information.You know by now that Bubba is quite capable of handling some complex tasks - butchering is definitely a specialized skill - but you had no idea that he ever did it professionally.“You used to work at the slaughterhouse?” you ask him even though Drayton is the one telling you all this, and Bubba nods and makes an unhappy little squawk.

“Yeah, but then they started usin’ those damn airguns to do the killing some years back. _“Captive bolts”_ , they call ‘em, and they put half the town outta work.Them guns make the job so efficient they don’t need as many folks workin’ there, so anyone they thought was too slow got kicked to the curb.And this damn fool right here is as slow as they come.”

Bubba slouches down in his seat and he looks so miserable and embarrassed that your heart actually aches for him.Not only does his brother hit him and call him stupid and fat on a regular basis, but he’d been fired from what is quite possibly his most marketable skill.Automation may be good for profit margins, but it’s too often bad for workers, especially those most suited for manual labor.“Oh, that’s too bad,” you say, then turn to Bubba and add kindly, “Well I think they made a big mistake because you seem to be really good at it.”Drayton snorts, but Bubba looks grateful and slightly shy.Granted you’ve only seen him cutting up people who are already dead, but with his size and strength you can’t imagine it was too difficult for him to crack a steer in the head with a sledgehammer.You meant what you said even though you’ve never seen him actually kill anything larger than a chicken… but that all changes the following week.

 

Drayton is late coming home one night, and at last you and Bubba hear the blast of his truck horn from the driveway.You hurry outside to find him standing by the passenger side door, his hair rather disheveled and holding his walloping stick.“Get this guy outta the truck and get him inside!He’s startin’ to wake up.” he orders, and Bubba rushes to obey.He flings open the door and inside is a man with a bag over his head, his ankles tied together and his wrists bound tightly behind his back.He’s moaning groggily, but manages to start squirming when Bubba picks him up and you stay well out of the way in case he starts really struggling.By the time you get into the house he’s back to full consciousness, but his yells are muffled by some sort of gag as he wriggles around in his captors grip.You think about advising him to stop struggling, as you know that Bubba is extremely strong and this poor man doesn’t have a chance, but for some reason you stay silent.Bubba yanks the bag off of the man’s head once you reach the butchering room and you wince in sympathy at the fear in his eyes.He’s very handsome, with wavy black hair and green eyes, and when he sees you you can recognize the desperate plea for help in his expression.Bubba drops him unceremoniously onto the floor and grabs a sledgehammer off of the counter, and before you can even breathe he takes hold of the man’s collar and raises the hammer high above his head and brings it down with a sickening thunk, right on top of the man’s skull.The man’s muffled scream abruptly stops and blood immediately begins to pour from his nose as he starts violently jerking.You can’t tell if he’s still alive or if this is just the throes of death… but Bubba gives him another hard whack for good measure and even if he’s technically still alive you can’t imagine that there’s any way this man is aware of what’s happened to him at this point.Before the jerking has even fully stopped Bubba drags him over to that mysterious door behind the gallows where he’s been pulling dead bodies from and opens it up, and you’re met with a cool burst of air: it’s a large meat locker, apparently homemade, constructed of sheet metal and with several more hooks hanging from the ceiling.He hoists the man up and drops him right onto one of the hooks somewhere in his upper back, and you cringe.Bubba takes a step back and considers the still-twitching corpse, then reaches for the mans wrist and removes his watch and puts it on himself next to his silver charm bracelet.It appears to be very expensive, and it just barely fits around his thick wrist at the largest setting.He brings it close to his face to inspect it, then shoves it in your face as well, seeking your opinion.

“Pretty fancy,” you manage to say.You’re still shaken up by what you’ve just witnessed.It was all so sudden, so abrupt and over so quickly, and Bubba treated it like just another day at the office.You’re a trained police officer and you’ve seen many, many photos of bodies that had met a violent death - and that’s not even counting everything you’ve seen here at the Sawyer homestead already - but watching a person get brutally killed not even five feet away from you was extremely jarring.You’ve never witnessed such violence firsthand before… and even more alarmingly, it came from a man that you have weirdly started to see almost as a friend.This realization is so crazy that you immediately vow to yourself to redouble your efforts to escape, and when Bubba takes you to the living room to listen to the radio before bed you manage to sneak a scrap of wire off the work table and tuck it away in your pocket.

You’ve never tried to pick a lock before, and sadly it appears that you do not have a natural talent for it.You fuss with it for hours after Bubba’s secured your leash to your bed with a second lock, but neither of them will yield to your efforts.You finally give up and tuck the wire beneath your mattress, but every night you keep working at it, hoping to one day hear the click of freedom.


	9. Chapter 9

It’s hard to believe it’s been over two months since you first woke up to find yourself a prisoner of the Sawyer brothers.It’s even harder to believe that you’ve managed to put off bathing for that long.But you’ve finally reached your breaking point, and after all of Bubba’s morning and afternoon chores are done and you know you’ve got a few hours to spare before it’s time for his evening ones, you at last make the request: “Hey, Bubba, may I please take a bath?I can’t deal with how bad I smell and how grody I feel anymore.”

You haven’t seen him panic this hard since he gave you that skimpy pair of panties over a month and a half ago.A low whimper starts up from the mouth of his newest mask - the face of that handsome, black-haired man that he killed in front of you - and his hands go to the sides of his head to start tapping his palms against his temples in a repetitive, agitated tic.“ _Please?_ ” you practically beg.“I won’t try to get away ‘cus I’ll be naked.I don’t want to run around outside with no clothes on.”Rather than reassuring him, that statement seems to have made his anxiety worse and his whimper turns into one of those distressed bovine bellows.He fidgets around for probably half an hour trying to decide what to do, and when you beg him for what must be the twentieth time he finally relents. 

You’d washed your police uniform about a week ago since the weather has been getting cooler as summer turns into autumn, and it’s hanging from a pair of antlers in the bathroom alongside one of your two sets of underwear.You don’t get the chance to wash them every day, but you’ve got them on a wash/dry rotation every couple of days at least.You plan to change into your nice, clean, warmer uniform after you get yourself clean, and by this point you’re so eager to bathe that you’re not even all that worked-up about being totally naked in the bathroom with Bubba.He’s clearly more nervous about it than you are.He doesn’t release your leash from around his belt, for Drayton reminds him every day - sometimes more than once a day - to never do that unless you’re tied and locked to your dinner chair or bed - though he does lock you to the bannister of the stairs while he uses the bathroom.The leash isn’t all that long so he has to stand right beside the tub, and he turns his back to you when you shove the stopper into the drain and turn on the faucet.You quickly strip as the tub fills, and you’re not even worried about Bubba sneaking a peek at you… in fact, for one bizarre second you kind of wish he would.Where in the hell did _that_ thought come from?You shake it off and put your hand beneath the running water to test the temperature… and to your dismay it’s still ice cold.

“Is there no hot water?”

Bubba shakes his head and says, “Uh-uh.”No wonder you haven’t seen him bathe yet - who wants to take cold baths?Drayton suffers through it about once a week or so, but you suppose he has to keep at least somewhat presentable in order to run his business.This is going to be truly unpleasant and you almost reconsider… but in the end you grit your teeth and climb into the tub with a sharp hiss and a curse.Bubba twitches at the sound and almost turns around before he stops himself - he probably thinks you’ve hurt yourself somehow based on the noises you made.

“It’s just cold!” you shiver, scrubbing your soap-lathered hands all over yourself as fast as you can.There’s no shampoo or conditioner and the soap is going to wreck your hair, but it’s better than being a complete greaseball.Once you’ve washed yourself as thoroughly as possible you drain the tub and start to climb out, but your foot slips against the wet porcelain and you quickly grab Bubba’s arm to keep from falling.He jumps and actually yelps, then reflexively looks behind him.You glance up at his face but his wide eyes are focused somewhere below your neck for only a split-second before he snaps his head back around and starts moaning like a sick cow.He seems excruciatingly embarrassed but you’re strangely pleased - this is one more indication that he sees you as a person rather than a chunk of meat like all those naked women he butchers, so it’s reassuring for your continued safety as well as being oddly flattering.You already know that he thinks at least your face is pretty, and the vain part of you can’t help but wonder if he likes the rest of what he’s just glimpsed as well.The idea of him finding you attractive is more gratifying than you care to admit to yourself, and instead you try to focus on the more practical implications of that possibility: perhaps _“feminine wiles”_ can be used to your advantage after all.But while that is indeed a practical thought, it repulses you.No matter how much you’d like to escape, you’re still not desperate enough to whore yourself out.You’ve managed to make it this far in life only fucking men you have feelings for, and you don’t plan to stop now.Plus tricking Bubba that way feels wrong and actually rather mean... if you’re going to sleep with him it will be because you want to.Wait… what?

That unbidden thought gets thoroughly pummeled back into the dark recesses of your mind from whence it came and you towel off and get dressed faster than you ever have in your life.You’re blushing intensely but fortunately he doesn’t notice because he refuses to look at you or even turn around.“It’s okay, Bubba, don’t worry about it, sorry I grabbed you.” you tell him, but even though his agonized noises finally die down he still won’t turn around to face you.The rest of the evening is awkward, and Drayton is the only one who tries to make any conversation at the dinner table.Bubba still seems tense when he locks you to your bed but you’re pretty much over the incident by now… or at least you thought you were.That night you dream you’re in the bathtub again, and when Bubba climbs in to join you your skin and the water turn pleasantly warm and you run your palms over his broad, furry chest as he wraps his big arms around you and pulls you in close to him… you wake up with a jolt and your whole body is hot and tingly, especially between your legs, and your face burns with shame.You could really use another cold bath right about now.

One other positive thing has come out of this awkward occurrence besides your finally feeling clean, at least: for whatever reason, Bubba apparently decides to follow your lead and a week later you find yourself tied to the bannister while _he_ takes a bath.You sit there on the stairs while he’s locked in the bathroom, and you try hard not to picture him naked… but it’s surprisingly difficult.You’re holding his pet chicken on your lap as you wait, stroking her feathered back as she clucks quietly.Bubba takes her out of her cage and lets her wander around the house every now and then when Drayton’s not home.She’s a bit feral to start with, no doubt from the stress of being kept in such a small cage most of the time, and you’re trying to figure out a tactful way to suggest he give her a larger one.There are times when you can definitely relate to her feeling of confinement, but on the whole you’ve come to terms with your situation way more than you ever would have thought possible.By now your landlord has no doubt officially evicted you and Lord knows what’s happened to all your belongings, and you haven’t had a job for months so getting back to an already-disrupted life doesn’t feel very urgent anymore.While you’ve so far refrained from eating human flesh, you’ve become thoroughly desensitized to the routine murder and cannibalism much faster than you expected.And while logically you know it’s textbook Stockholm syndrome, you’ve actually become quite fond of Bubba.Hell, you’ve even gotten pretty used to Drayton by now, though you still want to punch him in the mouth at least once daily.But spending time with his younger brother is strangely enjoyable.He’s sweet, and unusual enough that he’s quite fascinating despite being somewhat simple.In fact, his simplicity is actually endearing and refreshing.The last several years of your life had been chock-full of school and work and volunteering, with no time in between for much of a social life or even just to slow down and smell the flowers for a moment.But here there is plenty of time to smell the flowers, and you’ve got plenty to choose from since sunflowers aren’t the only kind Bubba has growing in the garden.As summer winds down you spend more and more time outside together, just sitting on the swing or meandering through the yard.There’s so much space left unfilled that you’ve actually started making little plans in your head for how it could be better utilized - perhaps you can talk Drayton into buying some seeds and you and Bubba can get a proper vegetable garden going.That would certainly help round out their meat-heavy diet while not making them any poorer, plus it sounds like a fun project.When fall officially arrives you and Bubba harvest the apples from the scraggly little trees in the yard, and you’ve never been so excited to eat a fresh piece of fruit in your whole life. 

 

Winter comes late to this part of Texas, and even though it’s not nearly as cold as much of the country it’s still relatively chilly compared to the summer.Not only that, but your only clothes are inadequate and the Sawyer home has no source of heat besides two fireplaces on the first floor.Bubba moves his grandparents downstairs to one of the fireplace rooms, and the job of keeping it cozy and warm is added to his daily tasks.He gives you several more blankets and an enormous cowhide to add to your bedding, but it still doesn’t quite keep you warm enough and you often fall asleep curled up like a fetus, teeth chattering.Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have one of your old boyfriends there in bed with you to share body heat…

The temperatures drop to their lowest come January, and at last you’re too uncomfortable to take it anymore.“Bubba, can I please sleep downstairs by the fireplace?I’m freezing my ass off upstairs.” you ask one night after dinner.You’re not sure what the sleeping arrangements are down here, but you don’t care if you have to sleep on the feathery, chicken-shit-splattered floor just as long as you’re warm.He pats your arm and babbles apologetically, then leads you over to that weirdly-normal-looking sofa in the living room.He shuffles around it, fidgeting a little and moving piles of bones and other crap around in an unfocused sort of way and it doesn’t appear that he has any clearly defined goal in mind.Is this where he sleeps?Is he trying to clear a space on the floor for you next to it?

Drayton enters the room and apparently he heard your request because he says with a creepy, rather sly grin, “Bubba Sawyer, you be a gentleman now and let your girl have the bed.Your grandpa’d beat your hide raw if he saw you makin’ a lady sleep on the floor.”You’re not sure if you want to point out to him that grandpa can’t even piss on his own so he’s unlikely to beat anybody’s hide raw, or thank him for scoring you a better sleeping surface than the floor, or smack him for calling you Bubba’s _“girl”_ … but then you want to smack _yourself_ because you secretly kind of liked the sound of that.You shove that thought away along with all those other similar unwelcome thoughts that have been popping up more and more frequently in your mind lately.Bubba replies to his brother in a tone that indicates he understands his instructions, and he fusses with the sofa for a moment… then you realize it has a pull-out mattress concealed inside.He unfolds it and then throws a bunch of blankets, hides and pillows onto it, then looks at you and gestures for you to go ahead.

“Uh, thank you.” you say a bit sheepishly, and as you crawl onto the very saggy mattress Bubba undoes his belt to slip off your leash and ties and locks you to one of the sofa legs instead.You watch as he rummages around and finds another pillow and cow hide, then he drops them on the floor right in front of your bed and lays down on top of them.

“’Night, don’t let them bedbugs bite,” Drayton says with that creepy grin, and you’re honestly shocked that there aren’t actually bedbugs in this house - not that you’ve noticed yet, at least.Drayton turns off the last skeleton lamp and leaves the room, and then it is dark save for the light of the moon shining through the rough burlap curtains.

You shift your blankets and pillows around to try and make more of a bed than a nest, but even though now you’re quite comfortable you can’t fall asleep - you’re feeling too guilty about Bubba laying on the floor with one sorry pillow and a cowhide that he’s not even sleeping under.Without even really thinking about it you say, “You can come up here, if you want to.It’s big enough for us to share and I feel really bad about you sleeping on the ground.”A nervous little whimper drifts up from the floor, and it somehow makes you even more determined.He has done everything you’ve asked of him in the five months you’ve been here, so this time you phrase it less like an offer and more like an order:“C’mon, Bubba, get up here.I don’t like having you sleep on the floor.”And sure enough, he obeys.The already-sagging mattress dips enough that you roll towards him as he crawls onto it and your heart is suddenly pounding as he finally lays down fully beside you.It’s a tighter fit than you estimated, and you can feel him trembling a little bit… or is that you who’s doing the trembling?All you know is that you’re instantly hot, and it’s not because of the fireplace across the room.“There, that’s better.Goodnight.” you manage to say, and he gives you a quiet little squawk in return.It still takes you a long time to fall asleep, but guilt has nothing to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This can be up to reader interpretation, but I'm personally imagining that he won’t turn around after the bathtub incident ‘cus he’s trying to hide an awkward boner and freaking the fuck out, lmao... poor Bubba. XD


	10. Chapter 10

You both manage to make it till morning, but just barely.You'd spent a large portion of the night clinging to the edge of the bed to try and avoid making physical contact with Bubba, but the mattress is so saggy that the second you let go you slid back towards the center and ended up pressed flush against him again.Bubba didn’t seem to be trying to get away from you, but he didn’t seem very relaxed either.After the longest night ever dawn finally arrives, and though you’re not sure which of you woke up first, Bubba climbs out of bed before you.He’s obviously a naturally early riser.The mattress squeaks noisily as he rolls off of it and before you can stop yourself you imagine how loud the ruckus would be during a vigorous round of sex…

You don’t want to get out of the nice, warm bed until the very last minute so you pretend to still be asleep, but you crack open one eye to see what Bubba is up to.You’re curious about how he starts his day before he normally comes upstairs to fetch you.He’s standing with his back to you, and it takes you a second to realize that the dark, wavy hair on his head is his own.He’s not wearing a mask.You’re burningly curious to see his real face and you desperately hope he’ll turn around, but he just rummages through the wooden barrel that houses his collection of masks and pulls out the grandmother one.He slips it on and those lovely, dark brown curls of his are concealed beneath the messy grey bun.You’re disappointed, but it still feels like you just caught a glimpse of a critically rare animal and it’s stupidly exciting.He ties on his apron next, and just as he moves towards the fireplace to poke the coals around you speak up: “Good morning.”

He jumps a little, then turns around and babbles his typical morning greeting in return.“Sleep okay?” you yawn, stretching your arms above your head and he nods, but you suspect he’s lying because he looks just as tired as you feel.The room is chilly, but he has the fire rebuilt within minutes and soon it’s quite cozy again.He unties you and the morning routine begins.

 

You and Bubba share the sofa-bed every night, and while you’re getting more comfortable with it it’s still exciting in a way you don’t want to fully admit to.You’ve had to discard most of the blankets and hides because he’s so warm, and every time you wake up and realize you’re accidentally cuddling up against him it’s agony to force yourself to scoot away.But what would happen if you didn’t scoot away?What would happen if you stayed right where you were?What would he do if you got even closer?But you’re too chicken to find out.For his part he was pretty tense and fidgety for the first few nights, but eventually he seemed to relax and now he’s sleeping like a rock… but unfortunately he’s also now snoring like the chainsaw he so frequently wields.At first you try to push him onto his side rather than his back, but it’s hopeless.You have no chance of moving him so you just have to suffer through it until he finally rolls over on his own.But while he’s gotten more relaxed while sleeping, his behavior towards you when awake has subtly changed: he seems even sweeter, even shyer, and he touches you more often.Then one morning you wake up and he’s already out of bed, which happens sometimes… but then you find a pretty little beaded bracelet resting on the pillow by your face, which has _not_ happened before.There is only one explanation for where it came from, but when he re-enters the room you ask anyway: “Is this for me?”

He makes that low, shy, chicken-squawk as he nods and nervously fidgets with his apron, and if you could see his face you would bet a thousand dollars that he’s blushing - and unfortunately you can feel that you’re blushing as well.“It’s really pretty, thank you.” you smile, and you put it on as he unlocks your leash from around the sofa-bed leg with a quiet little happy piglet squeal.You spend the rest of the day glancing at it and wondering what it means.You know by now that Bubba likes shiny, pretty baubles - he has an extensive collection that he’s pilfered from victims over the years and he rotates through them depending on his mood.He also often gives you pretty things to wear when he feels like doing each others makeup or hair or when dressing up for dinner, but you’ve aways given them back before bedtime so it was only a loan… but this appears to be a gift.Is he just being friendly?Or is he actually trying to court you?You can’t remember the last time a potential suitor gave you a gift and you find yourself overanalyzing the situation to a ridiculous degree.What’s even more confusing than trying to figure out his motive is figuring out your own feelings.  
  
  


One morning you actually wake up before he does, which almost never seems to happen, but he had a particularly hard day yesterday: killing three people and butchering two, then loading up half of the giant chest freezer worth of meat into Drayton’s truck for him to take to the station to turn into barbecue.Then he stacked the shed by the generator full of refilled gas cans that Drayton brought home from the station.Lastly he had to chop firewood and bring it inside, and he worked at it for hours until he was sweating despite the cool weather.You sat there on a stump, tied to a tree and wrapped in the furry hide of some unfortunate beast as you watched him work, once again thinking about what an unappreciative turd his older brother is.Bubba had accidentally knocked over one of the full gas cans while unloading them, and as the fuel soaked into the dirt Drayton gave him a harsh verbal lashing and a pretty hard walloping with his stick.This punishment was extra unjust in your opinion, because it was Drayton’s fault the can wasn’t closed properly.You hate it when Drayton beats or berates Bubba, and you always do your best to comfort him and build his confidence back up again after it happens.

He’s spooned up against your back right now, his face close enough that you can feel his soft, steady breath lightly puffing against your hair.You feel so divinely warm and cozy and relaxed and you sigh and let yourself scoot just a little bit closer to his heat… then your eyes pop open when you feel something hard poke against your ass.Oh God, you know what that is and you freeze momentarily, but then you can’t stop yourself from pressing back even more firmly against him.Your pulse speeds up and blood rushes to every cell in your body, and then your heart actually seems to start skipping when he sighs and drapes one heavy arm on top of you.It doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.Morning wood is a perfectly natural phenomenon that happens to all men - it’s actually surprising you haven’t noticed him sporting it before now.People move in their sleep and they don’t even know what they’re doing.He’s clearly still fast asleep.He’s not snuggling you intentionally.He’s not subtly rubbing his hard-on against your butt on purpose… but you cannot claim the same innocence for yourself as you wiggle against him in return, dragging his erection between your cheeks and biting back a gasp at how good it feels.God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt this and you’re instantly turned on.Then Bubba murmurs something unintelligible in his sleep and squeezes his arm around you tighter, and you give in to your weakness and allow one trembling hand to trail down between your own legs.You’re so riled up that you could probably come within two minutes, but you pause - what in the hell are you doing?Are you really about to try and get yourself off just from the stimulus of having a hard cock against your ass for the first time in ages?You angrily remind yourself that the hard cock in question belongs to the man who kidnapped you.You should be recoiling, not wishing your clothes weren’t in the way so you could feel that same hard cock pushing deep inside of you... and besides that, what if he wakes up and catches you in the act?That thought is mortifying and you quickly remove your hand from your crotch and bring it back up to rest on your pillow.In the faint light of dawn you can just barely see the sparkle from the lovely little bracelet he gave you.You haven’t taken it off once yet so far.Bubba is your kidnapper… but he’s also your friend.But he is _not_ your boyfriend, despite this pretty beaded trinket around your wrist.Right?

Your mind and body are in absolute turmoil, and then it gets worse when he grunts quietly and hugs you even tighter, then starts grinding his erection more forcefully against your ass.Oh God, what is even happening right now?He isn’t awake, is he?You honestly can’t tell for a moment, but suddenly you hear his breath catch and he goes completely still.You remain motionless yourself, barely daring to breath, and then he quickly lets go and rolls away from you.It seems that he _was_ asleep, but when he woke up and realized he was dry-humping you he stopped.You can just barely hear his quiet, distressed little whimpers and Lord, you wish you knew exactly what they meant.Is he whimpering because he’s worried you noticed and are offended?Or is it because he’s not actually attracted to you at all and he was repulsed when he realized what he was doing?Is he just frustrated that he can’t finish in front of you?You have no idea what to do or say, then he abruptly gets up and hurries out of the room, leaving you there tied to the bed. 

He eventually comes back for you and the day begins properly, but he’s anxious and distracted and Drayton smacks him at least five times before breakfast when he drops the platter of biscuits on the floor.You quickly bend to help him pick them up, and you’re actually feeling really bad for him.He’s still so flustered and you wish you could tell him not to worry about it, that he didn’t offend you or anything like that - far from it, in fact - and that it’s perfectly natural… but you don’t say a word since you’re not certain exactly what about the incident has him so upset.But whatever the reason, he’s extremely cute right now in addition to flustered and you smile reassuringly and give his hand a few gentle pats with your own once all the biscuits are picked up, your beaded bracelet clinking against his silver one.That seems to help him relax, and after Drayton leaves for work and the afternoon chores are done Bubba takes you to his bucket full of sparkly treasures and picks out a beautiful gold women’s wristwatch.It doesn’t appear to work anymore, but there are little diamonds set into the face in place of the numbers and it looks like it was expensive.Honestly, if the Sawyers sold some of his collection they could probably afford some decent upgrades to their house - like a hot water heater, for starters.He holds it out to you with an insistent little grunt, so you offer him your arm and let him fasten it around your wrist.“It’s beautiful,” you say sincerely.He licks his teeth and gives you a shy little grin, then he holds up his own wrist next to yours - he’s wearing the expensive-looking watch he swiped from the first victim you saw him kill.“We match!” you smile, and he grins even wider and nods.

 

The rest of the day goes by like usual, but he doesn’t ask for the watch back and it stays on your wrist beside your beaded bracelet as you both climb into the saggy old sofa-bed.That night you dream about sex for the first time in months, although now there is a sweetness to it that wasn’t there the last time.Instead of fast, brutal thrusts it’s slow and deep and gentle, and instead of sharp teeth digging harshly into your neck it’s soft little kisses and nips.The grunts and squeals are still there, but this time your partner is 100% human… and that human is Bubba.His thick fingers find your clit and he presses and rubs you just how you need it, and you cry out his name as your climax hits and he quickly follows, filling you up with warmth as he comes inside of you…

You wake up mid-orgasm and find yourself with your hand between your legs, gasping and twitching and rubbing yourself hard through your clothes.When the last little tremors end, your ecstasy is quickly replaced with mortification - both at what you just did and fear that Bubba may have noticed it.You go completely still and listen for any unusual noises or movements on his part, but all you hear is his slow, steady breathing.Thank God he’s apparently a heavy sleeper.You slowly turn your head to look at him, and while it’s too dark for you to see anything more than the shadowy outline of his body you can feel his heat and smell the musky, manly scent radiating off of him like always.He’s laying on his back - and miraculously not snoring - and before you can stop yourself you’re suddenly imagining climbing astride him and unfastening his pants to find out if his cock is as big as the rest of him, and if it would feel just as good as it did in your dream if he sank it deep inside of you...

You snap yourself out of it and frantically try to rationalize these alarming thoughts: it’s only natural that you would wonder about that part of him when you’ve been stuck in such close proximity for so long, including in deeply intimate situations - and especially after feeling his body responding to yours just yesterday.Yes, it could have just been a random physiological response, but it _could_ also indicate the possibility that he’s actually consciously thinking about you in a sexual way… and that thought is more exciting than you care to admit to yourself.On top of all that, you haven’t been with a man for several years at this point - hell, until this unintentional session just now you haven’t even had the chance to masturbate since being here thanks to lack of privacy and fear of getting caught.Oh God, what if Bubba masturbates while thinking about you?Suddenly you’re picturing his big fist sliding along his length, stroking and pumping himself to release while squealing like a pig, and maybe even squealing his version of your name… you try to be repulsed by this thought, but you can’t.For all his strange little idiosyncrasies: the weird noises he makes, his disturbing job and eating habits, the skin masks that you’ve still never seen him without, the fact that he could stand to bathe just a little more frequently - you’ve come to find Bubba oddly attractive.He’s about as masculine as it’s possible to get while still having a gentle sweetness to him, with his tall, broad stature and brown, long-lashed eyes and soft-looking lips.He’s like a big teddy bear: strong, but with some squishiness over all that muscle that feels so nice to cuddle with and more body hair than anyone you’ve ever even thought about being with before…

NO, you tell yourself firmly.You are _not_ thinking about being with him like that.You cannot control your subconscious, you have no power to stop yourself from screwing him senseless in your dreams, but you _can_ control yourself now that you’re awake.You can’t punish that deep, secret part of your sleeping brain that is responsible for you allowing him to relieve that aching hardness tenting his pants with your soft, willing body… but you _can_ punish your brain while it’s awake, and punish it you do, ordering it to banish those thoughts back to the void where they belong.

But no matter how much you scold yourself, you still can’t stop thinking about it.And the worst part is that you finally have to admit that in the dream, you actually didn't mind it.More than that, you liked it.You liked it a lot.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning it is you who is feeling awkward and even slightly guilty, which you try to tell yourself is stupid because it wasn’t like you actually molested him in his sleep or anything like that.And undressing him with your eyes doesn’t count as molestation, in your opinion, and it’s a good thing because you can’t stop doing it for the entire day as he goes about his duties.You manage to turn every movement he makes into some sort of sexual fantasy: when he fastens your leash to his belt you imagine yanking that belt right back off and taking the rest of his clothes with it… or maybe putting the leash on _him_ and having him be _your_ pet for the day.When he lubes up grandpa’s catheter you imagine him lubing himself up instead before shoving his cock into you as deep as he can get.When he eats his lunch you think about him eating you out instead, and how good his plush lips and fat tongue would feel working at your cunt while you grip the hair of his mask and squeeze his head between your thighs.When he leans over the butchers block to grab the meat cleaver you imagine yourself wedged between him and the block, bent over while he fucks you from behind with your breasts pressed against the rough wood and his soft belly pressed against your backside and his big fist tugging your hair.When he bends over to pick up a pretty little rock in the garden you imagine pushing him forward onto his hands and knees and pegging him, and you wonder if he would like it… then you feel ashamed for thinking such things when he hands that pretty rock to you with a bashful little smile.He just seems so innocent and it’s making you feel like a sex-crazed maniac.You wonder if he even knows what sex is.Surely he must have _some_ clue?Surely his brothers must have explained it to him?After all, he seemed embarrassed when Drayton talked about breeding and the chickens are constantly going at it.Speaking of the chickens, one of the roosters is currently servicing one of the hens while you and Bubba stand in their pen tossing handfuls of feed onto the ground and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, searching for any indication of understanding on his part about what’s going on in front of him.The mating is violent, and while you know that’s just the way chickens are it still feels rather rapey to you.

“Geez, that rooster’s kinda rough, isn’t he?His girls would probably appreciate it if he was a little more gentle,” you say just to see Bubbas reaction.He glances at you and then back at the copulating chickens, and after a moment it seems like a lightbulb clicks on in his head.He nods, then bends down and actually grabs the rooster and pulls him right off of the hens back.You watch in shocked amusement as he brings the no-doubt angry and confused rooster right up to his face and babbles something at it in a stern tone of voice - he appears to be scolding it for its lack of manners.Then he tosses the hapless bird halfway across the pen and you hold in a laugh.“Thank you, hopefully he’ll behave more like a gentleman now,” you say as seriously as you can, and Bubba reaches over and lightly pats your hand several times, his silver bracelet clinking against your beaded one.Then, just as an extra experiment you add, “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a little rough sometimes, it can be fun.But he was really going overboard.”Bubba doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so you quickly change the subject and suggest checking to see if the crocuses and daffodils have started blooming yet.

His behavior is rather strange for the rest of the day.Half the time he won’t even face you, but the other half of the time he keeps staring at you.Him staring at you is nothing new - he’s done it on and off ever since you woke up his prisoner, but it always seemed more out of curiosity than anything else and you only ever really noticed him staring at your face.For a long time you assumed the worst: that he was debating with himself on whether or not you were pretty enough to make a mask out of.But now he’s staring at you in a way that you can only describe as ogling… but it’s less crude than that.It’s more like how you used to stare at your crush across the math room in ninth grade: old enough that hormones are raging but still too inexperienced to know what to do about it other than admire from afar.You also catch him staring at your chest and lower - which is new as well, save for the incident in the bathtub - and as soon as he realizes you’ve caught him he quickly looks away and starts fidgeting and nervously licking his lips and teeth.It’s cute, but it’s also intriguing.Perhaps watching those chickens has given him some ideas... and unfortunately you have to admit that you hope it did.

 

Even if the fornicating poultry didn’t affect him consciously, they certainly seem to have affected him subconsciously because that night in bed makes the night you first noticed and rubbed up against his nocturnal hard-on seem like nothing.Before long Bubba is fast asleep and snoring loudly, and you sigh to yourself and roll away from him to wait it out.It’s annoying, but there’s also something weirdly comforting and pleasantly domestic about it.You’ve been bed partners for about a week and a half now and you know he’ll eventually roll over, and sure enough after only a few minutes he shifts onto his side towards you and his snoring mercifully ceases.He’s quiet and still for a few more minutes and you close your eyes and subtly scoot a bit closer to his comforting warmth… then he mumbles and sighs and wiggles closer to you as well before his arm flops over on top of you.You feel that tantalizing stiffness against your backside once again and electricity shoots straight to your core.Knowing now what a heavy sleeper he is the temptation to get yourself off with his unconscious assistance is strong, but before you get the chance he shoves his face in your hair with another mumble and sigh and begins lazily rubbing his crotch against your ass much like he did two nights ago - only this time he doesn’t wake up right away.You bite your lip to keep from moaning… but then he does it for you, releasing a soft, breathy whimper into your hair as he thrusts his hips more firmly against your ass.God, he has to be dreaming right now, and you wonder what he’s dreaming about.Hopefully not about fucking a corpse… hell, he could be dreaming about fucking a chicken for all you know, and you hope more than anything that he’s not.But he wasn’t staring at those mating chickens with that shy-yet-lusty expression today, and he’s certainly never looked at any of the naked bodies on his butchering block like that either, female _or_ male.You have to believe that at the very least he’s dreaming about fucking a living person… and deep down you hope that person is you.

He’s grunting and snuffling into your hair like a pig rooting for truffles, and all of your fantasies from earlier flood your brain simultaneously and you give up fighting it - to hell with getting caught.He’s apparently getting off, so it’s only fair that you do, too.This time you unfasten your pants and slide your hand beneath those skimpy, lacy panties and go straight to your already-soaked sex.You slip two fingers through your folds, spreading slickness before plunging them in as deep inside as you can reach as you thrust your ass back to meet him.Your fingers are too small to pretend they’re his dick, but you can at least pretend that your two fingers are actually one of his - sort of.They’re still too thin and too soft, lacking callouses on the pads and hair on the knuckles, but they’ll have to do.You undulate your pelvis in a smooth, circular motion, helping him along as well as yourself and within only a few moments Bubba goes stiff and still and makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan.God, did he just finish?Either his dream abruptly ended or he just came in his pants while grinding against your ass and that thought makes you fuck yourself faster and harder, determined to catch up with him before he goes soft or rolls away - or heaven forbid, wakes up.The effort it takes not to jerk too hard and cry out loud as you come is monumental, and fortunately the breathy gasps and movements you can’t help but make are masked by the noisy squeak and bounce of the sofa-bed as he rolls onto his back again with a sated-sounding sigh.As you start to recover you roll over enough that you can reach your hand that isn’t still buried in your pussy around to your backside, and when you feel the wet evidence of his orgasm dampening your pants you almost come a second time. 

Unfortunately he starts snoring again, and that decidedly unsexy noise snaps you out of your afterglow and you’re immediately overwhelmed by guilt.What the fuck is wrong with you?What is this madness?Does helping him get off in his sleep count as rape?What about using him to get yourself off while he’s unaware of it?You’ve finally admitted to yourself that you’re attracted to him, but you can’t be one-hundred-percent certain that he’s dreaming about or attracted to you.This can’t go on, you tell yourself.It just feels too weird and wrong - and you’re in a house where murder and cannibalism are routine.You’re awake and stewing in your self-flagellation when Bubba gets out of bed that morning and you catch another glimpse of his dark, wavy hair as he switches his mask.It looks soft and thick despite being somewhat flattened from being kept beneath masks all the time, and Lord how you want to run your fingers through it to ruffle it up and let it breathe.He seems to look down at himself before putting on his morning apron, then he grabs his suit trousers from where they were draped over the back of a chair and quickly shuffles out of the room.Your pulse speeds up just a bit - he’s got a mess in his regular pants to clean up, after all.

 

You successfully refrain from getting yourself off while sharing a bed with Bubba from that point on, but the sex dreams don’t slow down.If anything they actually get more intense, and as spring comes on strong and the weather gets warmer part of you is looking forward to sleeping in your own bed again so you can take care of your frustration… but more of you wants to stay sleeping beside him for as long as possible so you don’t ask or suggest to go back upstairs.You often find yourself pressed against his stiff cock during the night or in the early mornings, and you frequently end up with his arm draped over you or his face buried in your hair.Occasionally he’ll unconsciously involve you in whatever wet dreams he’s having and treat you to some clumsy groping and humping.It feels wonderful, but you restrain yourself from participating and he always immediately moves away as soon as he wakes up, whether it seems like he finished or not.But his sweet, bashful behavior continues and the little presents keep coming, so you’re starting to think it’s more and more likely that he’s moving away from you out of shyness or fear and not because he isn’t attracted to you.As the flowers begin to bloom outside he starts leaving some on your pillow occasionally, and soon you have quite a sizable pile of dried blossoms, jewelry, pretty little rocks and what you hope are animal bones sitting on a small end table by your side of the sofa-bed.He absolutely must have a crush on you - what else could explain the constant onslaught of gifts and shy-yet-lusty looks?It would be so easy on one of those nights when you feel that he’s hard to just wake him up, climb on top of him and ride him for all he’s worth… but delicious as that thought is you can’t quite bring yourself to do it, though you can’t really articulate why.


	12. Chapter 12

A pair of young lovers make the mistake of hiking too close to the Sawyer property one spring day while you and Bubba are feeding the chickens.You can hear their voices from just on the other side of the barn where Bubba’s mask-making station is set up, and he starts squealing anxiously and quickly takes off his belt and loops it around a corner post of the chicken enclosure before hurrying away from you and towards the sound of the intruders.He doesn’t have a sledgehammer or any other weapon with him, so is he going to kill them with his bare hands?You realize how far you have fallen from your former woman-of-the-law mindset when you admit to yourself that you want to watch him do it.Not because you like to see people die, but just because his shows of strength are extremely sexy.Then you realize that he hasn’t actually locked your leash to the coop.He only looped his belt around the post, and you could simply unfasten it and run away.This is your chance.He’s distracted with intruders and after all these months your opportunity has finally arrived.But for some inexplicable reason, you don’t take it.It’s not that you’re afraid to, it’s that you don’t want to.

This realization is so profound that you don’t know how to process it.Is it still Stockholm syndrome if you have an easy opportunity to escape but choose not to take it?Or does it mean that you actually, truly want to stay where you are?With him.With the man who treats you like a princess despite keeping you on a leash, who is sweet and gentle despite the fact that he’s most likely about to kill two people just on the other side of the barn right there.All this time you’ve been waiting for this moment, for the chance to get back to your old life, but now that it’s here you just don’t want it.Something shifts in your mind - or perhaps it already had and you just didn’t realize it until now: you’re happy where you are.You’re happy with him.With Bubba.You suddenly feel calm even as you hear a scream from behind the barn.You don’t want to leave.And you’re not going to.

After a few minutes Bubba comes back around the barn dragging a young man along the ground behind him and with a young woman slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.Even though he’s never carried you over his shoulder like that, it makes you miss the early days when he would carry you around with your back against his stomach and chest.How could you have ever found that upsetting when now that’s where you want to be all the time?He heads back over towards you, and you decide to show him that you chose not to run so there is no need for him to chain you to him again - plus he’s got his hands full right now - so you unloop his belt from around the coop post and wind it around your forearm instead.You start walking forward to meet him, and as soon as he realizes he forgot to lock you in place he starts bellowing in panic.He lets go of the man and dumps the woman off of his shoulder as he runs towards you faster than he has since your very first failed attempt to escape from the dining room all those months ago.He’s practically screaming now, and you wonder how much of his sheer terror is fear of you going to the police and Drayton beating the hell out of him versus fear of you leaving him.You beam at him and hold out your arms in an invitation for a hug, and he scoops you right up off the ground and has you pressed against him so fast that you barely realize what happened.His huge arms wrap all the way around you and he crushes you to his chest while continuing to scream, and soon your ears are ringing and you can hardly breathe.

“Bubba!You’re squishing me!” you gasp with your last bit of air, and fortunately he hears you and immediately lets go.You drop to the ground with a thud like one of those dead bodies, and when you grunt and wince he screams even louder.He probably thinks he hurt you, and sure enough he immediately drops to the ground as well and starts frantically patting you all over: the top of your head, your shoulders, your arms, your hands, your knees - all while babbling panicked, apologetic gibberish.“It’s okay, I’m not hurt,” you reassure him and pat his knee several times in return before finally grabbing hold of his hands to stop his frenzied motions.“Sshhhh, it’s okay, Bubba, I promise I’m not hurt,” you soothe him, then let go of his hands to gently take his face in yours and look him in the eyes.“And I’m not leaving.I don’t want to leave.I like being here with you.Even if you don’t lock me up, I’m not going to run away.I promise.I want to stay with you.”You think for a moment - you could probably convince him not to lock you up anymore at this point, but you’re certain that Drayton wouldn’t trust your sincerity and that he would punish Bubba severely for leaving you unrestrained, so you add, “But I don’t want you to get in trouble so I understand you need to lock me up still.”

He doesn’t seem to know what to do.He continues to look agitated and confused for a moment, but then his distress starts to morph into happiness and relief.Then he squeals joyfully and grabs you and pulls you into another hug - though not quite as tightly as before, thank God.You feebly pat his chest as best you can with how squished you are, then hear a soft groan from behind him… it sounds like he didn’t quite kill those two trespassers after all.“We’d better get them into the house before they wake up,” you mumble against his shoulder, and he reluctantly lets go of you.“I’ll lead the way,” you offer in a show of good faith - in case he’s having any doubts about your sincerity, this will allow him to keep an eye on you.He nods, and once he has the woman over his shoulder and the man’s arm in his hand again you walk back to the house and into the butchering room.

Bubba lets go of the man and opens up the meat locker door, but before he can hoist the very-possiby-still-alive woman onto a hook you grasp his forearm and request, “Could you please kill them with the hammer first?Please?”You may have accepted the Sawyer’s lifestyle at this point, but you’d still prefer their victims be treated as humanely as possible and hooking up someone who’s still alive is an unnecessary cruelty.Bubba nods and reaches for his sledgehammer, and both pieces of meat are mercifully hung up with huge, bleeding craters in their skulls and no life left in their bodies.

 

You know by now that it’s generally best to let the meat hang for awhile before butchering, so after Bubba shuts the locker again you both head back outside into the sunshine.“Well, I guess we’d better get me locked back up again just in case Drayton comes home early.” you suggest.Bubba nods somewhat sadly, and you’re pleased that it appears he would be happier letting you stay unrestrained as long as you don’t leave.Well, if you’re going to continue being chained at his side for the time being there’s no reason not to have a little fun with it sometimes.Feeling mischievous and curious about how he’ll react, you unwind his belt from around your arm but when he reaches out to take it you dodge his hand and go straight for the waistband of his pants.His stomach twitches and his outstretched hand clenches reflexively around nothing as you thread the leather strap through his belt loops.You don’t get excessively touchy, but you don’t make an effort to avoid making contact and his waist feels soft and warm beneath your hands as you guide the belt through each loop, all the way around him.It’s all you can do to keep yourself from gently pinching his extra chub above the belt - it’s too cute, and you very much look forward to seeing if _“love handles”_ work as their name implies.Assuming he’s up for it, at least, and Lord, you hope he is.You try not to fumble too much as you fasten the belt buckle, and he makes a barely-audible, choking sort of noise as your knuckles brush against the top of his fly.You glance up at his face: he looks terrified, but he also looks excited and when you look back down you swear there’s slightly more of a bulge at his crotch than before.Perhaps he is indeed up for it.You smile as you finish fastening the buckle and take his hand instead, then lead him over to the swing in the front yard.It’s one of your favorite spots to sit together, and it seems like the perfect place to do what you’ve been thinking about for awhile now.By this point his feelings for you are obvious, and now that you know for sure that you want to stay you can see no reason to keep holding yourself back.You sit down side by side like always, but you keep holding his hand and say sweetly, “Do you like me, Bubba?Do you want me to be your girl?”

A very faint, whimpering squawk spills from his lips as he looks down at your clasped hands and nods shyly, then he looks back up at you.He’s nervously licking his teeth and his eyes are darting all over the place, only occasionally coming back to meet yours and you give him a gentle smile.“Do you want to kiss me?”

He nods so slightly that you can barely see it and you pause for a moment… is this ethical?Are you taking advantage of him?He’s clearly less-intelligent than average on top of being extremely sheltered and naive.Is he able to consent to this?Yes, you eventually decide.Some of the residents of the group home you volunteered at were in romantic - and even physical - relationships with one another.Retarded people yearn for love and companionship just like everybody else, and it seems cruel to deny them that out of some arrogant, misguided notion that you know what’s best for their hearts more than they do themselves.And while Bubba may not be the smartest man in the world, he isn’t a child, nor is he an animal.And to say he’s been deprived of love and companionship is an understatement - it’s most likely the reason he kept you alive in the first place.He looks frightened right now, but you hope that it’s just because he’s never done this before and he’s nervous, and not because you’re pressuring him into something he doesn’t want.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” you ask kindly.

He shakes his head in short little jerks, his eyes huge and terrified.He looks as scared as you felt the first time you saw him butcher a person, and it’s so adorable that you can hardly stand it.“Can I show you how?” you smile, and when he gives you one stuttering nod you smile even wider before leaning in to do just that.It’s a little bit odd kissing through the gap in another man’s skin held open with metal wiring, but at this point you don’t even think about what that mask is anymore - it's just part of him to you now. When your lips touch together his entire body jerks before he freezes for a moment, but then he tries to kiss you back with a little too much enthusiasm.It’s messy and frantic with way too much tongue, teeth and spit, and you’re flashing back to those first sloppy kisses with your first boyfriend in high school.It’s gross, but it’s cute as well and you feel a strange sort of satisfaction at being the one to guide him through this for the very first time.You pry your lips away from his and try to give him some tips without hurting his feelings or confidence - especially since he seems to barely have any confidence already.“Let’s try it a little more gently, and with a little less spit, what do you think?” you say sweetly, and fortunately he nods without looking ashamed or upset.You figure that he’s usually corrected by being hit or shouted at, so gentle suggestions probably don’t even register on his radar as criticism.You lean in again and he meets you halfway this time, and after an initial clashing of teeth and knocking of noses you start to find a rhythm.He does much better this time, and though it's still a little messy and wet soon it actually begins to feel nice so you make a pleased little hum against his mouth to try and encourage him.

“That was nice.Did you like it, too?” you ask when you break the kiss, and he nods more vigorously than he did before.He’s breathless and looks rather stunned, like someone bonked _him_ on the head with a sledgehammer for once.He licks up the little bit of drool trickling from one corner of his mouth, and when you ask if he’d like to kiss some more he nods even more fervently and says, _“Uh-huh!”_ You make out for several minutes, trying your best to guide him and give him gentle instructions, and he gets better at it with every attempt.It’s enjoyable, but you’re selfishly itching for more so when you break apart you smile and ask:

“Would you like to do a little more?”

He nods and says “Uh-huh”, and now you don’t detect any hint of fear in his expression or body language - now there is nothing but excitement and anticipation. His complete and utter trust in you squeezes your heart, and you swear to yourself right here and now that you will never, ever abuse that trust.

“Tell me if you don’t like anything and we can stop, okay Bubba?I promise it’s alright.I’ll stop if you want me to and everything will be fine.Okay?”

He nods again and you place one of his hands on his own thigh and bring his other up to rest lightly over your breast, his palm easily enveloping the entirety of if.“Gently,” you murmur, and he carefully squeezes your soft flesh through your thin polyester top.“That feels so nice,” you sigh, thankful that you chose to forgo wearing a bra today.You just let him touch you for a few minutes, guiding his hand with yours as you give him several more kisses and lazily squeeze his knee with your other hand.You end the kiss and guide his hand away from you and rest it on the bench - you’re not sure if he’s able to multitask at this yet and you want this first time to be focused entirely on him.

You slide your palm along his thigh from his knee to his groin, and even though you’re eager to touch that promising-looking bulge between his legs you stop and check in with yourself - is this okay?Yes, you remind yourself of your earlier decision.As long as he wants it - and you want it as well - there is nothing wrong with him getting the chance to enjoy physical intimacy with another person just because he’s a little on the slow side.But you need to check in with him again.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?”

Bubba gives you a shaky nod.His breath is coming in uneven little gasps and that low whimper starts creeping up out of his throat as your hand moves even closer, then you at last cup your palm gently over the tenting at his crotch.He feels hot and thick even through his pants, and he seems to be completely hard already despite the fact that you haven't even touched him yet.“How about here?Is this okay?Does it feel good?”

His whimper turns into a high-pitched whine and he’s squirming like a worm on a hook, but he keeps nodding… and then your resolve solidifies when he manages to say, “Uh-huh, uh-huh!” in what is an unmistakably excited tone.He's licking his lips and teeth over and over and it seems like he's trying not to drool too much as you gently unfasten his belt and unbutton his trousers, then pull down the zipper.He's not wearing any underwear, which doesn't really surprise you for some reason, and when your hand delves inside you're immediately greeted with his bare skin and thick, coarse pubic hair.He whimpers and jerks as you carefully pull his stiff cock and heavy balls free from his pants, and you take a moment to assess what he's got to offer: his erection is just slightly shorter than average, and you’re glad because you’ve learned through somewhat painful experience that your vagina is on the slightly-short side as well.But his girth, however… oh Lord, he’s thicker than any man you’ve ever even _seen_ and it’s either going to feel uncomfortable or amazing when he’s finally inside of you.And you _definitely_ want him inside of you… but later.You don’t want to overwhelm him all at once, especially since he already looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.“I'll take care of you, Bubba, just relax,” you coo as you stroke him, sliding his foreskin up and down his shaft to alternately cover and expose the pink, leaking tip.He whines and trembles as you tug gently on his cock and fondle his balls, and you're about to ask him if it feels good - even though the answer is obviously _"yes"_ \- but before you get the chance he's coming all over your hands, thick spurts of his semen shooting into midair before landing on his stomach and thighs and dribbling down your wrists as he grunts and squeals like a hog that just got kicked in the gut.

 

Well, that was easy. You'll definitely cut him some slack for finishing quickly considering this is most certainly the first time he's been touched this way by another person, but you hope that eventually he'll be able to last a bit longer. There's a lot of cum... like, _a lot_ , and you wonder when the last time he ejaculated was. Or maybe he's just a heavy producer. You definitely plan to put that second possibility to rigorous scientific study.You look up from the mess in his lap to his face - he pretty much always has his mouth open, but now he’s panting like he just ran a marathon in hundred degree weather.You give him time to recover, then once he’s fully soft you gently tuck him back into his pants and ask: “Did you like that?Did it feel good?”

He slaps his palms against his thighs several times as he vigorously nods and says, “Uh-huh!” over and over with a huge grin on his face.He looks like Christmas came early or he just won the lottery or something and you can’t help but laugh happily as well. 

“Can I show you how to make me feel good like that, too?” you ask and he nods and squeals eagerly before attacking you with another frantic, sloppy kiss.“Gently,” you mumble against his mouth, and he eases up at your reminder.Both of his hands are latched onto your upper arms and you take them in your own, then bring one down to your lap and the other to your waist.Three weeks ago he killed a woman about your size and swiped her knee-length skirt, which you’ve been wearing since the weather’s been warmer - you prefer the skirt over those short red shorts.You drag his palm along your thigh, then slip his hand beneath the skirt hem and he squeals even louder.It almost feels like he’s more excited to touch you than he was about being touched himself, which is a promising start.Your first forays into sexual intimacy had been generally pretty disappointing: fast and awkward and devoid of any pleasure for you whatsoever.Those inexperienced men - or boys, rather, as they seem to you now looking back - were selfish, too caught up in chasing their own satisfaction to bother to learn how to please you as well.But while Bubba is obviously just as inexperienced as those men if not more so, unlike them he seems willing to learn and eager to please.Lack of knowledge you can handle - it’s the attitude that matters.If he can learn how to butcher a human body he can learn how to pleasure one as well.You’re fully expecting that you and Bubba’s sexual escapades will be awkward in the beginning, but you also know what you’re doing by now and it will definitely be enjoyable for both of you - you’ll make sure of that.Getting to the main event is going to be the best thing ever no matter how long he lasts, but for now it’s time to finish christening this swing.

His palm drags up along your inner thigh under your guidance and you spread your legs wider to make room for his hand, then turn his wrist and press his fingertips against the crotch of your panties.“Now rub your fingers like this,” you say as you move his hand along the span of your sex, and he immediately obeys.You let go of his hand after a moment so he can feel like he’s accomplishing something on his own, and you sigh in pleasure and bring his free hand from your waist to your breast.He squeezes a little too hard - clearly he doesn’t know his own strength.“Gently, please,” you remind him again, and he loosens his grip.“That’s perfect, you’re doing such a good job,” you hum, and he squeals happily.He keeps stroking and squeezing you with all of the patience and precision he shows while helping his grandpa and butchering bodies, and before your panties get too soaked you gently push his hand away and lift your hips to pull your underwear down past your knees and let them drop around your ankles.It’s very possible you’ll end up with splinters in your ass from the rough wooden swing, but you’re so desperate to have him touch you directly that you don’t give a shit.You take his hand again and drag his thick, rough fingers against your slit, guiding them between your slippery folds and it feels so, so good.You sigh and close your eyes, but when Bubba makes a noise like an overexcited hog and the swing shakes and creaks a bit you open them again - he’s wiggling around on the bench and when you glance at his lap you see that he’s already at least mostly hard again.Perhaps what he lacks in staying power he’ll make up for with quick recovery capabilities.“Do you like touching me like this, Bubba?” you smile at him.He nods vigorously, then leans in to give you a kiss when your free hand joins his and your other hand between your legs.“Good,” you murmur with another little sigh when you break the kiss and pull back for air, “I like having you touch me, too.It feels amazing.”You’re absolutely dripping at this point and it’s a good thing, because even just his finger is bigger than anything that’s been in your pussy for quite awhile and you moan softly as you guide that thick digit slowly inside of you.You just hold him steady for a moment while you adjust, then get him moving in a slow, smooth rhythm sliding in and out before pushing his index finger in as well.

“Ooooh…” you moan at the divine stretch, the rough skin of his fingers rubbing along your inner walls as you show him how to touch you, and though your eyes are closed you can hear his loud, fast panting and little excited noises.His excitement heightens your own arousal, and you quickly rub at your clit with one hand while pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping wet cunt with your other.You’ve been so sexually frustrated for so long that you don’t last all that much longer than he did, and it’s such a relief to finally be able to writhe and cry out loud when your orgasm hits you hard.The swing shakes and creaks more as you buck against his hand and he wriggles in place, and he doesn’t stop wriggling even as your climax begins to ebb and you relax back against the bench.He looks like he’s ready for another round, so after you’re completely recovered and holding his hand still between your legs you reach out your free hand to rub his hard dick through his pants with quick, firm strokes, wondering if you can make him come again this way.It turns out that you can indeed, because within seconds Bubba jerks his hips hard against your hand and you feel warmth spread beneath your palm as his cock twitches within the tight confines of his pants.He’s grunting and gasping and making those kicked-hog noises again, and the animalistic quality of the sounds he apparently makes when he comes is more devastatingly sexy than you imagined it would be - and you had imagined what he might sound like while coming quite often.He squeezes your breast just a little too hard again, but it’s not too bad and you give him a pass considering he’s in the throes of ecstasy.

As soon as he starts coming down he loosens his grip once more, and you remove his hand from between your legs.You moan quietly as his hand leaves you, and then you moan louder when he immediately brings that hand to his mouth and starts sucking and licking your slickness from his fingers as if it were prize-winning barbecue sauce.Well, he eats people after all so you suppose it shouldn’t be surprising that he would instinctively do that.You giggle a bit at that thought, and you happily suspect that he will have no qualms about eating out your pussy as well.You rub your hand along his thigh as he licks his fingers completely clean, then he licks his lips as well and lets go of your breast to pull you in for a deep, hungry kiss.You taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into his mouth - Bubba’s inexperience, lack of social conditioning and naturally submissive personality may very well make him extremely open to all sorts of bedroom activities and you can’t wait to try them all.The idea of having a partner who is a blank slate when it comes to any preconceived notions of how physical intimacy should be, who is willing and eager to obey you and who you can mold to your satisfaction is extremely exciting - as is the idea of treating him as kindly and as lovingly as you can in return.He deserves it, after all.

“Did you like all of that?Did it all feel good?Do you want to do it again sometime?” you ask when you break the kiss, and he babbles at you nonstop for a good twenty seconds while nodding and squeezing your hands gently with his own.Even though you don’t have a clue what he’s saying, based on his big grin and happy tone he’s clearly affirming his satisfaction with the experience.You grin right back and say, “I liked it, too.I loved it.  You did a fantastic job."  He seems to be bursting with pride and you give him a warm smile before glancing down at his lap again. “Guess we’d better get your pants and my underwear washed before your brother gets home,” you giggle conspiratorially, and he giggles as well before you stand up from the swing and bend to pull your underwear back up into place.You and Bubba walk back towards the house together hand-in-hand, and you haven’t felt this happy and light for a long time, not even before he knocked you out and kidnapped you.If this is what Stockholm syndrome feels like, then you’re all for it.


	13. Chapter 13

It appears that you have created a monster, because after your rendezvous on the swing Bubba can’t keep his hands off of you.He’s constantly trying to kiss you for the rest of the day, and that night after three orgasms each you finally have to insist that you should both really get some sleep and he reluctantly agrees. The next morning you wake up to his hard cock pressing insistently against your ass, and as soon as he notices you’re awake he starts kissing you everywhere he can reach while thrusting his hips against your butt and trying to bring his hand between your legs.You realize he’s been touch-starved for probably his entire life, but he’s so insatiable that it still surprises you a little - not that you’re complaining.Before getting out of bed you treat one another to a quick handjob and fingering, but spend more time exploring one another that afternoon between Bubba’s chores and even more that night before falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Your only respite from his advances is while he's doing his chores or when Drayton's around - though he still sneaks in little squeezes of your hand and quick pecks on your cheek in between tasks and when his brother's not looking.You wonder why he’s keeping your relationship secret, but you respect his apparent wishes. Informing his brother is his decision to make whenever he feels comfortable with it.In the meantime, though, the secrecy is kind of fun. Being with Bubba feels like being a teenager again, only better because now you know who you are and what you want. But everything is still so new to him and his excitement is contagious - and your hope that his stamina will improve is rapidly coming true already. He still comes pretty quickly, but he recovers just as fast and his generous, attentive reciprocation has so far ensured that you’re never left unsatisfied.

Unfortunately Drayton's not as stupid as he looks and the next morning he’s shooting suspicious glares at you and Bubba from across the breakfast table when you both sit down looking rather flushed and disheveled and giddy.  You’d managed to squeeze in some fooling around after tending to grandpa but before breakfast, and you hope Drayton can't smell your still-wet cunt from across the table. You’d helped Bubba make you come twice mere minutes ago and you didn't have time to change into your clean pair of panties. For once you actually wish Nubbins’s rotten remains were still stinking up the dining room.  Poor Bubba on the other hand didn't get to come even once thanks to running out of time and you can see his hard-on still poking against his apron. Oh, it's so tempting to be naughty and jerk him off under the table with Drayton right here, but you know for a fact that Bubba is incapable of staying quiet before and during - and usually after - orgasm so you restrain yourself for now... but you definitely plan to make it up to him as soon as you've got the house to yourselves.  So far you’ve both been keeping fully clothed save for the vital bits between your legs, and today you plan to take it to the next level.

It feels like it takes forever for Drayton to finally leave for work, and as soon as he shuts the front door with his usual stern warning to his brother to keep you locked up you drag Bubba back to the sofa-bed and yank off his apron before pushing at his chest to encourage him to sit down. The mattress groans under his weight and he squeals eagerly when you climb onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs.He hurriedly removes your leash before grabbing your hips with both hands, his thick fingers digging into your flesh as you rub your palms all over his broad chest and shoulders. You're not really a fan of his old lady mask - especially when trying to get frisky - so you say sweetly, "Would you put on your other mask, please, Bubba? You look so handsome in the one with the short black hair."He nods and wraps one arm around your back to keep you on his lap as he leans over sideways to reach the barrel holding his collection. You work at removing his tie while he rummages around until he finds the face you requested, and you close your eyes as he switches masks. Eventually you plan to ask him if he'll let you see his real face, but not right now. You don't want to risk triggering his anxiety and possibly denying or delaying his two orgasms that you owe him - and maybe another one for yourself as well.It’s already tremendous progress that he trusts you enough not to blindfold you while he changes masks and you don't want to push him too hard too fast.

Once he’s all situated you open your eyes and lean back to lift your shirt up and off over your head, letting him see your naked chest for the first time since the bathtub incident a few months back.He’s groped you plenty of times both through and beneath your shirt since your tryst on the swing, but this is the first solid look he’s gotten at your bare breasts and he just about loses his damn mind.He sounds like a starving pig at feeding time as he reaches out and grabs you with both hands, pinching and twisting your nipples between his fingertips the way you’ve taught him you like.Fortunately by now he knows how hard is too hard for him to squeeze and your head lolls back with a sigh of pleasure.Bubba doesn’t seem to care much about the breasts of the women he butchers - those bits always end up in the trash since they’re useless as food for both humans and chickens alike - but he definitely has a strong reaction to yours.“You can use your mouth, if you want to,” you suggest, and he doesn’t need telling twice.His head immediately dips and he lifts you up to meet him before latching his soft, cupid lips onto one nipple and sucking - _hard._ It feels good, though, and you gasp out his name and bring your hands up to tangle in the wavy dark hair of his mask, trying to pretend that it’s his own.He lavishes you with his lips and tongue and just a little bit of teeth, grunting and slobbering, sucking and licking until spit is trailing down your ribs.If you had to choose two words to describe Bubba’s bedroom techniques thus far they would be _“enthusiastic”_ and _“messy”_ , but again - you’re not complaining.

It’s not fair that he’s getting to ogle and manhandle you while his body remains a mystery so you start unbuttoning his shirt. As more and more of his chest is exposed you can’t wait to comb your fingers through the dark curls of hair scattered across it, but you don’t get far before he makes a distressed little whimper and lets go of your breasts and shrinks away from you a bit.

Concerned, you immediately stop unbuttoning his shirt.“What’s wrong?” you ask, and Bubba shrugs as he tries to cover his belly and chest with his arms.It seems that he’s shy about more than just his face being seen.Perhaps he’s self-conscious about his weight?Drayton’s always calling him fat, after all.He may be a bit on the chunky side, but you love the shape and feel of his body and you try your best to tell him so.“Are you nervous about me seeing you without your shirt on?” you ask and he nods, that low, anxious chicken-squawk crawling up out of his throat.You give him a reassuring smile and gently stroke the exposed side of his neck beneath his mask.“You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to, but I would really love to see and feel you without it.You’re so big and strong… and fuzzy,” you add with a playful grin, teasing the hair just below his clavicle with your fingertips, and happily he gives you a tiny little bashful smile. “You’re my big, strong, furry, cuddly teddy bear and I want to make your whole body feel good.”Fortunately it appears that he’s starting to relax a bit at your praise and you lean in to give him a kiss, which he accepts.“I think you’re so handsome, Bubba… so manly and sexy and it feels so good when you hold me, and it’ll feel even better without clothes on.But only if you want to try it.So whenever you decide you want to, you just let me know.Okay, honey?”You’re not sure where that pet name came from, but he seems to like it because he takes your face in both of his big hands and leans in to give you another kiss.It appears that your pep talk was effective, because while he still looks bashful he grasps your hands and moves them back to the front of his shirt, giving you permission to continue.

You work open each button, then gently tug his tucked-in shirt free from his pants and push the fabric back so you can get a better look at him: big, strong, furry and cuddly indeed.Now that you know he’s self-conscious about his body, you restrain yourself from gently pinching the adorable roll of his belly above his pants and instead drape your arms over his shoulders and press your chest and stomach flush against his - it’s probably best to focus on how good it feels rather than how good you think he looks, at least for now. He twitches a little, whether from nervousness or overstimulation you're not sure, but then he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you more tightly against him in a big, delicious bear hug.It feels absolutely divine, and you wonder how he manages to feel both hard and soft at the same time. His skin is extremely warm like always, bordering on hot, and his chest and arm hair feels soft against your own smooth skin as you wiggle against him. His body is sexy and masculine and you can feel how powerful it is, can envision him striking people down with that heavy sledgehammer and handling their dead weight with ease... but right now he's shaking like a nervous teenager. He may be easily capable of destroying you with his bare hands, but you clearly hold all the power here and it's a hell of a rush.

"Mmmm, you're so handsome, Bubba, you feel so good... thank you for letting me see and touch you like this." you praise him as you toy with his hair on the back of his neck that’s poking beneath the edge of the mask, and he sighs happily - albeit a little shakily as well.This level of verbal encouragement is a bit above and beyond your usual bedroom talk, but Bubba seems to need it.You suppose that his self-esteem is probably already lower than dirt thanks to all the verbal and physical abuse he endures on a regular basis, not to mention the loss of his job.That compounded with the fact that he won’t even show his real face, his own tendencies towards anxiety plus the general anxiety that goes along with being sexually intimate for the first time all adds up to him being extremely vulnerable at the moment and you vow to yourself once again to never, ever hurt him in any way if you can at all help it.

You nuzzle your face into the space where his neck meets his shoulder, breathing in his scent and trailing little patterns on his shoulders with your fingertips as he gently rubs his hands along your back, just soaking up the sensation of touching one another skin-to-skin.He’s still trembling a little, but something in his energy is changing and soon it feels more like excitement than anxiety.He mostly smells wonderful in that musky, masculine way right now… but that scent of old sweat that he also usually has is definitely there as well and you can only imagine how much worse it is below his belt.You've been planning to see if he's up for learning what a blowjob is - and you suspect that he will be - but as much as your senses of smell and taste have been altered and dulled by all of the various and often-unpleasant smells and flavors of the Sawyer house, you’re not sure you want to have his dick in your mouth when he hasn’t washed it for several weeks at this point.Hell, you don’t smell - or probably taste - all that great down south either at the moment, so if you’re hoping for him to reciprocate it’s only fair that you clean up a bit as well.Another bath is in order for you both, but oh how you hate the idea of moving away from his warm body and into cold water… but then you’re struck with an idea so obvious that you’re embarrassed you hadn’t thought of it sooner: you can just heat up some water on the stove and pour it into the tub.Clearly you’ve been so spoiled by relative luxury for your whole life that solutions to problems faced by those much poorer than you had never even begun to enter your mind.The idea of a warm bath is almost as exciting as the idea of sucking his cock, and you pull away from him and grin, “How about we take a nice warm bath together, hon?We can heat up some water on the stove and share the tub so it doesn’t go cold too soon.”You add that last bit with a little wink, and he gives you a shy smile and babbles and nods his head.You’re about to climb off of his lap and head for the kitchen, but instead squeak in surprise when he wraps his arms around you again and stands up, taking you with him. 

He shifts you onto his hip, holding you like a toddler and you giggle and cling to him as he bends and retrieves a huge stock pot from a low cupboard - the stockpot that Drayton uses to make head cheese in, animal and human alike. He puts it in the sink and fills it with water, but then he realizes he has to set you down in order to carry the full pot to the stove without spilling it. He whines unhappily as you slide down his body till your feet hit the floor, but then you grope his erection through his pants with a playful little grin and that perks him back up even as he nearly drops the pot. You turn the burner up to full heat, then direct Bubba to watch it while you get the bath ready. A mix of cold and boiling should do the trick, and after several pots of hot water the bath feels comfortable against your fingertips. There’s really no need to close the bathroom door since Drayton's not home and grandpa's not coming downstairs without a miracle, but it makes things feel more private and intimate. Bubba stands there somewhat nervously in his boots, pants, and unbuttoned, untucked shirt and watches riveted as you shimmy out of your skirt and underwear right in front of him. You're about to encourage him to strip as well, but before you can speak he mumbles in a tone of pure reverence: "Pretty."

You've always felt confident in your own skin - unlike poor Bubba, you think wryly - but his simple compliment makes you feel more giddy and flattered than you can ever remember feeling before.He seems to be paralyzed at the moment, unable to stop staring at you, so you smile and walk towards him, your bare feet padding against the warped floorboards. You stop directly in front of him and at last run your palms along the broad expanse of his chest. "Handsome," you compliment him in return, and he ducks his head shyly and makes a bashful little piglet squeal. You assume that since he's consented to the bath that means he's willing to get naked as well, and if you just stand around for too long the water will go cold so you push his shirt farther off of his chest and drag it down over his thick arms until it falls to the floor. "So handsome, so sexy," you repeat as you start unfastening his pants, and though he's standing there passively and letting you undress him, his hands are clenching at his sides and you can see and feel him trembling. He's still rock-hard despite his nervousness, and he's been hard for so long at this point that his balls must be aching. You'll take care of that for him posthaste."Is this okay, honey?" you check in with him, and he nods and squawks quietly so you gently pull his pants down over his quivering thighs, being careful not to snag his dick on the zipper.His erection springs free and you're tempted to suck him off right there on your knees in front of him, but a nice thorough wash will make that much more pleasant.So you stand back up when he steps out of his pants and boots, then take his hand to lead him to the tub. You let go and he watches you climb in and sit down, then he climbs in as well when you beckon him. You didn't quite correctly calculate how much water would be displaced by your combined mass and the tub comes dangerously close to overflowing when he sits down. Even though it's a large tub, there's also very little room left over thanks to his bulk and it takes a few minutes of shifting to get yourselves reasonably situated.

"Doing okay still?" you ask sweetly, and he nods and babbles in a tone that reassures you of his sincerity. Your hands are drawn to his chest like a magnet and you comb your fingers through his hair as he sucks in a shaky breath, but then something snaps and he grabs and pulls you towards him when you rub your thumbs over his nipples. Water sloshes over the side of the tub and your butt squeaks against the porcelain as he yanks you closer and leans forward to kiss you, making hungry, desperate noises against your mouth and grabbing hold of your breasts. He's clumsy and almost too rough, but it excites you and considering how long he's been suffering with his persistent hard-on you really can't blame him. Speaking of that... you grab the bar of soap and lather up your hands, then reach under the water and start stroking his turgid flesh, killing two birds with one stone: getting him clean and giving him relief at the same time. The noises he's making are utterly inhuman - he sounds like a mortally wounded boar and it sends a tingling up your spine and heat between your legs. Who knew that you'd get so turned on by a man who sounds like a literal beast in bed?More heat floods your sex when you think of him fucking you like one as well, but the delicious torture of introducing Bubba slowly and gradually to the world of physical intimacy will make it all the more enjoyable when you finally get to that point: the point where he’s pounding his thick, veiny cock into you fast and hard, pinning you to the ground beneath him like one of those hens submitting to a rooster more than twice her size… feeling him sweat against your back and hearing him pant and grunt as he nips at your neck with those oddly sharp teeth… his big hands anchoring your hips and forcing you to take his entire length as he fucks into you, and you cry out with each thrust until you both hit your breaking points and he fills you up completely, leaving your pussy utterly wrecked and dripping with his warm cum when he finally pulls out… a scenario that horrified you only months ago, and now you can hardly wait for it.

He's trying to thrust into your hands right now, but it's not very effective as he keeps slipping against the smooth surface of the tub and sending more water over the side. Fortunately he comes before half of the water ends up on the floor, his broad chest heaving as he bellows and pulses in your grip and you coo sweet words of encouragement - though he probably can't even hear them over all the noise he's making.He shudders and pants as his semen dissipates in the warm water and you lather up your hands again and keep gently washing him as he goes soft.There’s one orgasm you owe him taken care of, and considering how completely dazed he looks right now it seems like it was an especially good one.“You’re so sexy when you come,” you tell him truthfully, and when he whines from both bashfulness at your compliment and overstimulation from your touch you move your hands away from his crotch and out to wash his thighs, still quivering from the power of his climax.He toys with your hair and softly pats your shoulders, arms and thighs with his hands while you wash as much of him as you can reach, and though he twitches a bit when you get to his stomach he doesn’t pull away.“You’re so cute, Bubba, I love your body so much,” you smile as you rub your soapy hands all over his soft, furry belly, and though he still looks shy he actually giggles when you tickle your fingers around his bellybutton.It hadn’t yet occurred to you that he might be ticklish, and while you’re not going to try it here because you don’t want to send any more water out of the tub and onto the floor, you make a mental note to test just how ticklish he is later.

Once you’ve got him all scrubbed you hand him the soap, inviting him to wash you in return.He immediately reaches between your legs, no doubt intending to give you an orgasm as well, but the water’s starting to go cold and you’d rather have him reciprocate later.You let him touch you just long enough to get you nice and clean, but remove his hand before things get too carried away.“Later, honeybear, let’s get the rest of me washed before the bath gets too cold, okay?” you suggest, and he squeals and nods and starts work on your thighs.He washes you in the exact pattern you’d washed him in, and you’re impressed by his memory.Bubba can be absentminded at times and he’s often forgetful when flustered or excited, but it’s clear that he works very hard to follow instructions both explicitly given or implicitly assumed.He may not be especially bright, but he always seems to try his best and wants so desperately to please.Who couldn’t appreciate that?Only a psychopath like his stupid brother, you think bitterly, and you wonder how much of Bubba’s earnestness to do a good job comes from desiring the natural satisfaction that comes from being appreciated versus the desire to avoid pain and punishment.While he clearly needs steady, consistent - and often repeated - guidance and you don’t envy Drayton the stress that probably came along with raising little Bubba to adulthood, you have absolutely no doubt that beating and insulting him was never, ever necessary or warranted, even during his most sullen or bratty moments.You don’t know if Bubba ever knew a mother or father who loved him and treated him kindly or if his late brother Nubbins was nicer than Drayton, but while you definitely don’t want to be a mother-figure to him - far from it, in fact - you are more than happy to show him as much kindness and love as you can, both inside the bedroom and out.


	14. Chapter 14

Once you’re both squeaky clean and dried off, you and Bubba throw the towels onto the wet bathroom floor and scoot them around with your feet to try and mop up all the spilled bathwater.It’s gonna take a few more towels to finish the job and while you’re tempted to say screw it and get back to fooling around, you don’t want to add to the already bordering-on-decrepit condition of the house.So you scrounge up some more towels and rags to get the floor as dry as possible.You’re both still naked, and although Bubba’s making a valiant effort to focus on the task at hand he winds up drying the same spot on the floor over and over while staring at you.

“Bubba, the faster we get the floor dry, the faster we can get back to the fun stuff,” you say with a teasing little smile, and he immediately looks back at the floor and starts working even more vigorously.Surely using praise and rewards to help keep Bubba on track would work just as effectively - if not more so - than beating and insulting him, and with the added bonus of not being a terrible person like Drayton.Once the floor is as dry as it’s going to get you turn to him and say, “Okay, all done!Wanna go back to bed till chore time?”The words barely leave your lips before he grabs you and lifts you right up off of the floor, then carries you bridal-style towards the bathroom door and you can’t help but squeak and giggle a bit.Bubba seems to enjoy carrying you practically every chance he gets, and you certainly don’t mind it.He shifts you a bit so he can turn the doorknob, then hurries to the living room.He’s making excited little squeals as you kiss his neck below his mask, and you smile to yourself thinking about how much more excited he would be if he knew what you have in store for him this time.

He carefully places you on top of the huge cowhide covering the sofa-bed, and the no-doubt rusty old springs squeak as the mattress dips.They squeak even louder when he clambers on as well, positioning himself halfway beside and halfway on top of you and leaning over and down for kisses.He starts rubbing his growing erection against your thigh, instinctively moving closer towards your crotch and for a moment you consider just letting him fuck you right here and now... but while that’s definitely tempting, you still want to wait.The buildup is as fun as it is agonizing, and besides that the more experience he gets and the more orgasms you give him, the more his stamina and staying power improve.While you’re prepared to be forgiving if he finishes quickly during actual intercourse, you’d still like to increase your odds of having time to come on his dick first.With that thought in mind, you stop kissing him and place one hand against his chest and push slightly, giving him an indication to stop - which he does.

“I’d like to try something new, if that’s okay with you,” you say sweetly before he can start whining or feeling rejected.His eyes light up with curiosity and he babbles and nods, then he moves off of you when you push more firmly on his chest.He follows your lead without question and it’s a new - but thrilling - experience. You’ve never been the one calling _all_ of the shots in bed before.“Will you please sit down on the edge of the bed, honey?” you request, and he instantly obeys.He starts patting his thighs with both hands as you drop a pillow onto the floor and kneel in front of him, but this time it’s an excited gesture rather than a nervous one.It seems that he’s gotten over his body-image anxiety, at least for the moment.“If you don’t like this just let me know and we can stop, okay?I promise it’s alright if you don’t want to do this.”It seems highly unlikely that he won’t - you’ve never known a man to turn down a blowjob - but you never know, and you always want to make sure he’s fully consenting to everything you do together.He says something to indicate that he understands, so you push his legs a little farther apart and lean in to place a soft kiss right on the tip of his cock.He’s halfway hard already just from anticipation and humping your leg, and when you drag your tongue along the underside of his rapidly-growing length he lets out a squeal like a piglet getting stepped on.You remove your tongue and look up to meet his eyes and ask, “Do you like it so far?”He nods vigorously and his hands move from his thighs to your shoulders so he can pat and squeeze you. You smile and resume your work, shifting on the pillow and leaning in even closer, adding your hands to the mix and stroking, kissing and licking him to full hardness.Bubba makes a noise like someone just drop-kicked that unfortunate piglet when you suck on his balls, gently rolling them against your tongue one after the other and he squeezes your shoulders so hard that you come close to asking him to loosen his grip - he’s either still learning or keeps forgetting how strong he is.When precum starts leaking from his slit and you feel his thick veins throbbing against your tongue you quickly swallow him down as far as you can, and your throat convulses around his fat cock as you gag. Saliva oozes down your chin and Bubba grunts and squeals and thrusts into your mouth, making you gag again. The sound is filthy and hot and you moan around his hard length before pulling back to catch your breath. He slips all the way out of your throat and a thin string of spit and precum stretches from the tip of his bobbing cock to your gasping lips before breaking and sticking to your chin and jaw.

“Feel good, baby?” you ask, not bothering to wipe the mess from your face yet.He’s panting even harder than you are - and almost drooling as much as well - and he looks like he’s just witnessed the second coming of Christ or something equally wondrous.He pets his big hands all over your hair as he frantically nods, and you lick your lips in a wanton display before wrapping them around the engorged head of his cock once more and sucking.He groans and clutches your hair harder, and for a moment you’re afraid he’s going to start fucking your mouth a little too forcefully - it’s been a long time since you’ve done this and you don’t think you could manage him getting too rough with it yet. But while he keeps occasionally thrusting, fortunately he doesn’t try to control your movements.You swallow him down as far as you can once again, fighting off your gag reflex and on the third try you get his entire length down your throat, burying your nose in his pubic hair.He’s already smelling musky and manly through the soap, and while it’s a powerful aphrodisiac taking the bath was absolutely the right call.He's whimpering and moaning and taking harsh, breathy gasps, getting louder and louder as you slide him back out of your throat and focus your mouth on the sensitive head while pumping his shaft with one hand and lightly caressing his balls with your other. His movements get more erratic and the pitch of his voice gets higher, and as you suck harder you suspect that he's close... and sure enough, with one last jerk of his hips and a guttural groan he shoots his huge load down your throat and you swallow his thick, salty cum as quickly as you can - though you leave a little bit in your mouth in case he might enjoy seeing it on your tongue. You don't know yet what particular little things he may like in bed, and he probably doesn't even know himself yet, either

Once he manages to open his eyes again you only have time to flash your semen-coated tongue at him for half a second before he reaches down to grab you and pull you up off of the floor and onto his lap. He kisses you before you even get the chance to swallow and you’re instantly turned on by the fact that he doesn’t care about tasting himself on your tongue - maybe he even likes it.He tries to start scooting back all the way onto the sofa-bed while still kissing you, but all that leads to is the painful knocking of noses and teeth and him almost biting your tongue, so he reluctantly breaks the kiss. You hang on to him as he moves back fully onto the mattress, and you giggle at the noisy springs and violent bounce. This poor piece of furniture probably didn’t have a whole lot of life left in it to begin with, and you and Bubba are steadily hastening its demise.

 

Apparently you've worn him out to the point of needing a break after those two intense orgasms, because he lays down on his back with you draped on top of him and he pulls the cowhide over to cover you both.You settle comfortably into his soft, warm stomach and chest and he makes happy little noises and squeezes his arms around you.You hum contentedly in return as you comb your fingers through his chest hair and press little kisses against his skin. You’ve never been with a man who seemed this fond of cuddling, but Bubba is an absolute snuggle-bug.He’s most likely been starved of _any_ loving touch, not just sexual, and while he’s eager to get and give as many orgasms in a row as quickly as possible, once you’ve both finally reached your limits he seems to want nothing more than to roll onto his back with you on top of him and his face against your skin or hair while he gently hugs you and rubs and pats you everywhere he can reach, and you love it, too.He’s so comfy and squishy while still feeling strong - there is definitely something to be said for being with a hard-working man with a few extra pounds. This is the first time you’ve snuggled together while naked and it’s a thousand times better than snuggling with clothes on - though you’ll happily do either one, and it seems likely that he feels the same. You prop yourself up to look at his face. “That was so fun, I loved doing that for you, honeybear.Did you like it too?”

Either he really likes blowjobs, or that particular pet name or both, because he suddenly looks extra-bashful and pleased and you’re certain he’s blushing beneath his mask. God, you’re dying to see him without it and you pray that one day he’ll let you. Bubba nods his head with an emphatic, “Uh-huh!”, and you smile and rest your head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow and his breath soften.Before long he starts snoring, and for some reason it strikes you as the funniest thing ever - apparently the last several days of his intro-to-sex marathon has finally caught up with him.You wonder how long you should let him sleep.If he naps for too long he might keep you up half the night... which you wouldn’t mind if only you didn’t have to wake up so damn early in the morning. You wish the pretty gold wristwatch he gave you still worked, but that would mostly just be to satisfy your curiosity because the exact time doesn’t really matter much in your daily life with Bubba.He works according to the rhythms of nature as far as you can tell, waking up with the sun and completing his routine at a similar, steady pace every day until bedtime.Drayton’s schedule is generally just as predictable, though he occasionally leaves early or comes home late if he has to purchase supplies or if he’s managed to snag a victim.But you actually don’t mind this nebulous keeping of time… after being a slave to the clock right down to the minute hand for as long as you can remember, spending your days just according to habit and routine with a little wiggle-room here and there feels liberating.You wonder if Bubba even knows how to read a clock.Why would he need to?Though surely he must have had to when he worked at the slaughterhouse… unless Drayton or Nubbins drove him there on time and he just followed what the other employees were doing.Thinking about his life before he lost his job is both fascinating and sad.You’ve never had any strong opinion on cattle-killing methods, but you find that now you hate those captive-bolt guns as much as Drayton does.

You sigh and close your eyes, and that softness in your heart that you feel for him - that you’ve felt for him for a long time now - swells with both pain and warmth all at once.Maybe it’s not Stockholm syndrome, but rather some sort of savior-complex that makes you want to protect and take care of him?You hate the idea of feeling sorry for him, but still can’t help but think about some alternate universe where he’d been born under different circumstances… if he’d been raised by a normal, loving family rather than a bunch of murdering cannibals.If he’d gone to a school like the one in Austin that’s designed to meet the needs of people like him.If he’d been trained in a vocation that he wouldn’t get laid off from.If he’d had friends.If he’d had the opportunity to be intimate and loving with a partner possessing cognitive abilities closer to his own level… for as much as you truly enjoy being with him, you have to admit to yourself that you most likely wouldn’t have thought of him this way if he’d been one of the residents of the group home where you’d volunteered.To you he would most likely have been just another patient to be guided through the finer details of mostly-independent adult living.Someone you would enjoy helping, but not someone you would ever imagine fucking.But what if that’s not actually true?What if the only thing that would have stopped you from thinking of him that way would be because society expects it?Hell, society would most likely actively disapprove of such a union, would demand to know why a smart, educated person like you would want to be with some backwoods, hillbilly _“retard”_ like Bubba.They would accuse you of taking advantage of him - which you admit is a fair concern, as you’d had those same worries yourself not long ago.But here in your insular little world on the Sawyer farm, those same rules don’t apply, and you’re glad.

You’ve always been the type of person who needs to feel helpful, who loves seeing people thrive and grow to the best of their abilities because their success is your own success, too.And now you have your very own project in Bubba: a masters thesis in abnormal psychology, social work and criminal rehabilitation all rolled up into a big, soft, giant of a man with a sweet temperament and timid soul, who appears to be fully devoted to you already… and with the bonus of fantastic sex. You frown slightly. When you think of it that way it doesn’t sound like the foundations of a healthy relationship - but then again, considering this relationship came about due to him kidnapping you, how _could_ it be healthy?You don’t know of a term to describe this unholy alliance of Stockholm and savior-complex that you’re apparently afflicted with, but you decide not to dwell on it anymore.Even if your relationship would be frowned upon by the outside world, you’re enjoying yourself now, and Bubba is as well.Being with you is probably the most healthy thing in his life, and that plus your own contentment is good enough for you, no matter how others might pick it apart and judge it.


	15. Chapter 15

You’re just on the verge of nodding off yourself when Bubba stops snoring and shifts a bit, then yawns and hugs his arms around you more tightly again.His cute little piglet squeals start up and his hands wander down your back to squeeze your ass, and you smile against his chest.He can’t have been out for more than twenty minutes, and soon he’s eagerly snuffling into your hair and kneading your butt cheeks with both hands.He’s clearly ready for another round, and now that your orgasm tallies are equal for the day you decide that it would be a shame to let your nice, freshly-washed pussy go to waste.

“Hello again,” you smile, looking up to meet his eyes.“Did you have a nice nap?”He grins and nods, and your smile turns a bit more mischievous. “Would you like to try doing to me what I just did to you, baby?Using your mouth?”

Bubba looks like he’s just been told he’s won a trip to Disneyland.You catch the briefest glimpse of his widening smile and excited eyes before suddenly you’re on your back and he pulls you by your legs till they’re hanging off the edge of the bed - he’s putting you in the same position you’d had him in.He can handle you effortlessly and you feel as tiny and helpless as a rag doll in his grip, but oh Lord, is it sexy… at least in this context.It would be considerably less-sexy if he was using that strength to impale you on a meathook instead of - eventually - on his dick.That thought plus his current eagerness makes you laugh and you prop yourself up on your elbows as he drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your legs further apart, but then he stops.He’s licking his lips and teeth and staring hungrily at your sex, but he doesn’t seem to know how to proceed.You suppose it makes sense - unlike the rest of your bodies, your anatomy is significantly different between the legs so he can’t try to exactly mimic what you’d done to him.A hot blush blossoms in your cheeks at his intense study of your most intimate parts, but you just let him look at you for awhile, giving him time to try and figure out what to do on his own.Between you and his victims he’s certainly seen and touched numerous sets of female genitalia, but this is the first time he’s been tasked with using his mouth to pleasure one.He finally tears his eyes away and looks up at you, clearly seeking guidance and possibly encouragement.

“Just kiss me like you do to my mouth first, honey,” you instruct, and he nods and immediately dives in.He has to hunch down to reach and just the sight of this huge man positioned so submissively before you with his head between your thighs is intensely erotic.The first touch of his lips draws a breathy gasp from your throat, and you quickly praise him so he won’t mistake your gasp as one of discomfort.He keeps giving you soft little kisses, remembering to be gentle even though this is one instance where he really doesn’t need to be.It feels so nice, but something is somewhat off about it: the wires holding open the mouth of his mask and the way it juts out slightly from his face already makes kissing a bit awkward at times, but right now it’s downright obtrusive, pressing into your vulva and restricting his movement.Plus if Bubba gets as sloppy doing this as you suspect he will, his mask is going to end up drenched in your slickness and his saliva.You hesitate for only a moment, then decide to take a chance - if he says no or freaks out, at least it will be your orgasm put on hold instead of his.

“Bubba,” you say, reaching down to gently lift his chin up and away from your crotch, “You don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable with it, but this might go a little bit easier if you take off your mask.”He suddenly looks horrified and squawks anxiously, and you quickly backtrack before he starts tapping the sides of his head like he does when he’s really upset.“Ssshhh, it’s okay Bubba, you don’t have to!It will feel good for me either way, I promise.I just want you to know that if you ever feel okay about it, I would love to see your face.Your whole body is so handsome to me, and I know that I’ll love that part of you, too.”He moans like a sick cow and taps his fingertips against your thighs - which is better than him doing it to himself, but it still makes you feel terrible for upsetting him.“Sshhh, I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean to upset you.You can keep it on for as long as you want to, I’m so sorry if I made you feel bad.”

For some reason your apology makes his fingers go still and his moaning taper off into quiet little whimpers before stopping completely.Then it dawns on you that it’s sadly quite possible that this is the first time anyone has ever bothered to apologize to him for anything - and sure enough, now he looks more confused than upset.He’s quiet and still for several minutes, clearly thinking hard, and you wait with bated breath for his eventual decision… and you’re surprised when he looks up at you and nods.“Are you sure, baby?”He nods again, but then he reaches up to place his hand over your eyes.It seems that he’s willing to take off his mask to do a better job of pleasuring you, but he’s not ready to let you look at him while he does it.“You want me to keep my eyes closed?” you confirm as he pulls his hand away, and he nods and babbles.Well, it’s definitely still progress and you recognize that you’ve already asked a lot of him today when it comes to being naked.“Alright, honeybear, I promise I will.I’ll keep my eyes closed and you let me know when I can open them again.Just tap me on the shoulder twice when you’re ready, okay?”He nods and smiles, looking downright relieved as a hint of his previous excitement creeps back into his expression.You smile reassuringly and gently pat his hands where they’re resting on your thighs, then close your eyes.

His hands leave you and you hear a rustle, then his hands return and you can’t help but twitch a little when his soft, full lips meet your labia once more.God, who knew that just the feel of the bare skin of his face and the brush of his real hair against you would be so arousing all on its own?It must be the fact that it’s something so secret, so personal and so vulnerable for him, and he’s letting you experience some of that vulnerability.It’s so tempting to try and sneak a quick peek at him… but you remind yourself of your vow never to betray his trust and if he caught you looking it would break your heart - and possibly his as well.So you stay strong and focus on the feel of his sideburns lightly scraping your inner thighs.Perhaps if he won’t let you look, he’ll at least let you touch?“Bubba, that feels so nice… is it okay if I touch your hair?”Happily you feel him nod and he babbles something in the affirmative, so you reach down and at last run your hands through those thick, wavy curls that you’ve been aching to touch for what feels like forever.He grunts in pleasure as you gently massage his scalp and lightly ruffle his hair, and you hope that it feels good enough to make him more inclined to remove his mask more often.His nose rubs against your mound through your pubic hair and you feel and hear him inhale deeply, taking in your own musk.He starts grunting louder and digs the blunt tips of his fingers more firmly into your thighs, and even if he winds up not being very skilled at this you have the feeling you’re not going to last terribly long.Bubba starts out shy with each new thing you introduce him to, but after you guide him through it once he then seems to have zero inhibitions.He just does what you tell him to and what his own instincts command, and this time is no different.He keeps softly kissing you and after a few moments you request that he kick it up a notch, inviting him to use his tongue.He squeals excitedly and tries to push your legs further apart, but you’re already spread open as wide as your hips will allow so before he breaks your legs without even trying you quickly say, “Bubba, that’s as far as my legs will go, try putting them over your shoulders.”He mumbles something against you and obeys, and then shoves his face into your crotch again and starts up an absolutely relentless assault on your pussy. 

Within not even fifteen seconds he’s going hog-wild between your legs, so to speak, and with noises to match, and you squeak in surprise when he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him until your butt is hanging off the side of the mattress.It feels weird to have your ass dangling out in midair, but he holds you securely and soon you’re distracted by what his mouth is doing rather than the location of your backside. _“Enthusiastic”_ and _“messy”_ don’t even begin to describe what’s going on down there: he’s going absolutely crazy, laving his fat, wet tongue all over you from crack to clit, and your eyes can’t help but pop open in surprise when it squirms over your tight, puckered hole before he shoves his tongue inside of your cunt as far as he can get.“Jesus, Bubba, oh my God!” you cry out, quickly shutting your eyes again lest he notice, but you needn’t worry - he’s 1000% focused on eating you out with a ferocity that’s almost frightening. You hate to keep comparing him to animals, but his raw, unbridled sexuality is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before and you don’t know how else to describe it.“God, that’s so good, baby, you’re doing amazing,” you gasp, and he grunts and squeals in reply.You feel a combination of his saliva and your juices trickling down your crack and you clutch his hair harder when he follows it with his mouth, licking and drooling and stabbing his tongue everywhere he can reach, including your asshole again.You’ve never had a man use his tongue on you there and your brain and nerve-endings can barely handle it.Fingers, occasionally yes.But tongue?Never.“Jesus, Bubba, fuck!” you cry out again as he slobbers his way back up to your clit, ravishing every single centimeter of your sex in his path like a bulldozer made of hot, wet muscle.Clearly what he lacks in skill he makes up for with sheer persistence and the complete absence of restraint.

“Use your fingers… now, too, baby, please… j-just like u-… usual.”It’s difficult to get the words out at this point, but he gets the message and slides one thick digit into your sopping pussy like you’ve taught him while circling and flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit the way you’ve shown him how to do with his fingers.He’s gotten confident enough now to improvise, and you’re oddly proud of him.Then he unexpectedly sucks on your clit the way you sucked on the head of his cock - _hard_.You yelp and he quickly backs off, whining apologetically and apparently mistaking the noise you made for an indication of pain when the opposite couldn’t be more true. “That was so good, Bubba, do it again, please,” you beg, and can’t help but pull his head back towards you by his hair - his real hair, you remember too late.You’re so out of control yourself by now that it only vaguely registers in your mind that you might have tugged too hard, but he doesn’t seem to mind it.In fact he squeals excitedly and somehow attacks your soaking, swollen cunt even more ferociously - apparently that little power-nap he took really recharged his batteries.When he slips a second finger inside and his teeth lightly scrape against your sensitive flesh it sends you over the edge, and you thrash atop the mattress and buck into his face, digging your heels into his back to try and anchor yourself to this plane of existence as you come so hard you nearly black out. You faintly notice his muffled squeals drifting up from between your legs as you start to come down, and when your mind finally begins to clear you worry that you might have hit him in the face with your crotch or squeezed his head with your thighs too hard when you came. You almost accidentally open your eyes to check on him, but catch yourself just in time.

“Stop, Bubba, please, I can’t take anymore,” you moan, and he finally stops licking and his head moves away, then he slides your legs back off of his shoulders and sits your butt properly on the mattress again.You’re panting hard and can just barely hear the rustling sound of him putting on his mask before the mattress dips and he’s sitting beside you once more.He taps your shoulder twice, so you open your eyes.It looks like he wiped his nose and chin before putting on his mask - since you _know_ by the feel of what he just did that half his face must have been soaked in your sex and his spit - but his lips are still glistening and he licks them over and over, as though he’s still trying to taste you.His big, brown eyes are eager and bright, and he looks rather like a puppy who’s just performed a trick and is hoping for praise and maybe even a treat.He’s so, _so_ cute, and when you can speak almost-normally again you give him a smile take his hand in yours.“Oh my Lord, Bubba, you’re _amazing_.That was absolutely incredible, you did such a great job, honey!” you gush.You don’t want to specifically tell him that he just went down on you better than any other man you have ever been with - you don’t know if he’s the jealous type, but still, comparing current lovers to past ones is just bad manners.“You made me feel so good, baby, thank you.”He squeals happily and you smile and lean in to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.You stroke the cheek of his mask, and you’re almost thinking that having him take it off was a mistake. You’d gotten used to the tough, leathery texture of dead skin, but now that you’ve felt the warm, living softness of his own skin and hair beneath that mask it’s all you can think about.You won’t ask him again to take it off - at least not for a good long while - but you’re hopeful that perhaps one day he’ll decide to take it off on his own.You just hope that day will come sooner rather than later.

He’s squirming in place a little bit, and when you break the kiss and look down at his lap you find him fully erect again despite his two recent orgasms.He’s so hard that it almost looks painful, and not for the first time you’re impressed with his incredibly quick recovery time.“Let me help you with that, honeybear,” you coo as you bring your hand between your own legs to collect some of your cum and his spit, and with only a few wet strokes he’s bellowing and twitching in your grip.You angle his cock towards your stomach - you’ve been trying to avoid getting any sexual fluids on the cowhide since you’re not sure how to clean it - but apparently you’ve finally drained him dry for the moment because he doesn’t release much semen even though he’s obviously coming.Interesting. Once he’s returned somewhat back to his senses, Bubba reaches for you and pulls you close as he lays down, though both of your legs are still hanging over the side of the bed.“Now _I_ need a nap,” you giggle tiredly, and he giggles as well. He’s also left such a mess between your legs that you could use another bath, too, but probably just a washcloth and water will do the trick as well. You stay snuggled up together for probably another hour or so, and Bubba babbles something and sits up just as your stomach starts to growl.It’s time for lunch - possibly even past time.

You both go to the bathroom where you’d left your clothes, and as Bubba gets dressed he watches in fascination as you try to clean up between your legs.He looks a little bashful when you notice him staring, but you just chuckle, “I don’t think there’s any reason to be shy anymore, hon, you’ve seen pretty much all of me there is to see at this point.”You wink at him and he grins, then you both wash your hands and head to the kitchen to make lunch.


	16. Chapter 16

“How was your day?” you murmur out of the side of your mouth when Drayton walks through the living room doorway the following week.You’re trying not to move your face too much since Bubba’s practicing his makeup skills on you.While he’s still a little messy, he’s improved exponentially since his first attempt all those months ago.

“Oh, not too bad, I reckon. Transport was late like usual, but there weren’t no customers till after it came anyhow so no harm done.Sold a fair bit’o barbecue, too.” Drayton casually replies.You’ve generally come to a sort of truce with the elder Sawyer brother.He’s still annoying and his weird mood swings are difficult to deal with at times, but as soon as you decided to stay you figured it would be best for everyone if you made an honest attempt to get along with him, even if only for Bubba’s sake.Getting along with Drayton has also been easier lately since he hasn’t found any reason to hit Bubba for quite awhile, since now that you know Bubba’s various duties well you make sure to help him so he doesn’t run out of time, forget anything or make any mistakes.Drayton may be an abusive bastard, but at least he doesn’t just do it out of nowhere. Plus, in all honesty, it _is_ nice to have someone to talk to who can actually talk back, even if it’s in argument form.

“That’s good,” you mumble, sending the point of the lipstick over the edge of your lips and Bubba makes a scolding sort of clucking noise and reaches for the nearby roll of toilet paper to wipe the red smear clean.“Sorry,” you mumble again, but you can tell he’s not really angry.Bubba could happily sit here and do your makeup all day, and sometimes he does, having you wash your face in-between applications. You’re about to ask Drayton something that’s been on your mind for awhile now since he seems to be in a benign sort of mood, but yet again you’ve misread him because before you can speak he frowns and says crankily:

“More’n I can say for you two, sittin’ around playing dress-up while I’m out workin’.”

“Hey, Bubba does tons of work around here, it’s not his fault you’re too stupid to see it.” you frown right back, and even though your speaking messed up your lipstick again, this time Bubba doesn’t scold you. He always looks somewhere between nervous and excited when you talk back to Drayton, like the wimpy kid cheering on another kid beating up the schoolyard bully on their behalf.

“Well his work don’t pay the bills now, do it? And _you_ don’t do a goddamn thing around here ’cept take up space and food!” Drayton snaps, and you open your mouth to retort but stop yourself.Escalating the argument will accomplish nothing, and besides that he’s actually not wrong about you not contributing to the household. It was only a matter of time before Drayton got sick of you being a dead weight, and you honestly can’t blame him for feeling like you should do more to earn your keep. Well, more than just giving his brother plenty of orgasms, but he doesn’t need to know about that.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right. I _don’t_ do enough to contribute around here.” you say calmly, and you can tell your concession has caught him off guard. It actually works out perfectly with what you were planning to ask him, so you continue: “Bubba and I have been thinking about starting a vegetable garden. If you buy the seeds we’ll take care of it, and that’ll help put food on the table for all of us. What do you think?”

Drayton looks a little confused for a moment - he’s probably still stunned that you actually agreed with him for once - and then he says, “Well… that might not be a bad idea…”This is going better than you expected it would and you’re about to thank him, but then his frown is back. “What makes you think I got money to spend on buying you any damn seeds? And what makes you think _he’s_ smart enough to keep them veggies alive even if I _did_ buy ‘em?” he says nastily, glaring at Bubba, and you glare right back.Even if he’s not hitting him, it always seems like Drayton’s trying to find _some_ way to insult his little brother.

“He keeps the chickens and flowers alive, so veggies are no big deal!Hell, he even keeps _grandpa_ alive, no thanks to you! I don’t see _you_ feeding him or helping him piss and shit!” you sneer. “And besides, I’m here to help him.We’ll do it together. Now quit being such a cheapskate, you gotta have some extra cash somewhere! You just said you sold a bunch of barbecue today!”

Bubba’s tittering nervously under his breath while fidgeting with the eyeshadow compact, and Drayton purses his lips over his jutting grey teeth before shouting, “I told ya’, I ain’t got no extra money for no damn seeds!”

Now he’s just being difficult for no reason. You’re absolutely certain that seeds are dirt cheap and that he’s just struggling to admit that you have a good idea, even though he already said it wasn’t a bad idea at the start of this conversation. He’s such a stubborn jackass, but you refuse to back down. “Fine, how about this? You drive me to the bank and I’ll get some cash out of my own account. _Then_ will you buy us some fucking seeds?”

Drayton barks out a derisive laugh. “You think I’m stupid? Ain’t no way you’re goin’ outside without that leash on. And what’s to stop you from tellin’ the lady at the bank where you’re at?”

You’re tempted to tell him that yes, you do indeed think he’s stupid, but instead roll your eyes and say, “Oh _come on_ , I’ve been here over eight months! If I wanted to escape I would have figured it out and done it already. I’m happy here with your brother, I’m not going to try and escape or tattle on you.”

Bubba makes a tiny little happy noise, but Drayton squints menacingly at you and growls, “I don’t believe that for a hot Texas second. You ain’t leavin’ this house, little Missy.”Then suddenly his face folds into a smile and he says in a lighter tone, “Here’s what I _will_ do.I’ll let you call the bank instead, and you can tell ‘em to cash out some money to me.”

“And you’ll spend it to buy seeds, right?” you ask, raising one suspicious eyebrow. You’ve seen the bottle of whiskey Drayton keeps hidden in the back of the high cupboard above the fridge, and the last thing you want is your finite supply of money being spent on his booze.

“Yes ma’am.” he replies genially, and if you weren’t so used to his nonsense by now your head would be spinning.

“Okay, deal.” you say firmly.“Can we go first thing tomorrow?We need to get those seeds planted and growing before it gets too hot.”

“Yes indeedy, that’s a fine plan. We’ll go right after breakfast.”He turns around and heads for the kitchen to get dinner started, and Bubba squeals happily and puts down the eyeshadow so he can pat his hands all over you in a gesture of gratitude - and also possibly awe at your taking on his brother and succeeding.

“C’mon babe, let’s see how this color looks on me,” you smile at him as you pick up the compact, and he grins and takes it from you and gets back to work.

 

Shockingly, Drayton stays true to his word and bright and early the next morning you’re sitting beside him in his ancient old truck, rattling your way down the road to that same lonely payphone where he’d forced you to resign from your job so long ago.Irritatingly, he made Bubba tie you up again and he holds the straight-razor against your throat once more as you call up the bank, his precaution against you blurting out that you’re being held captive. You roll your eyes, but don’t argue. You give the teller your information and request that fifteen dollars be dispensed to Drayton Sawyer, and that he will come in to pick it up that day. You see the surprise on Drayton’s face at the amount of money, and as soon as you hang up the phone he gives you a suspicious glare. “Ain’t no way seeds cost fifteen dollars.What’re you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything.” you insist as he leads you back towards the truck and helps you climb inside.“I want you to get plenty of seeds, but I also want you to buy a nice beef roast or some steaks for you, me, Bubba and grandpa. I want some red meat and I’m not gonna start eating people anytime soon.”Drayton squints at you, but then he laughs when you add, “Besides, people aren’t even really red meat. They’re more like pork, aren’t they?”

“Can’t say you don’t pay attention,” he chuckles as he starts up the engine, and then he actually gives you a genuine smile when you request that he buy a six-pack of beer for you all to share as well. You may just win him over yet.

You drive along in silence for awhile, then out of the blue he says, “So, uh, you say you’re happy spendin’ time with my brother, eh?”

You can’t identify his tone so you try to keep your reply as neutral as possible. “Yeah, I am.”

“Why? He’s dumber than a dead armadillo, and smells just as bad, too.”

You bristle indignantly, but still try to keep your voice neutral. “Well, he may not be super smart, but he’s genuine and sweet. I’d rather be around an honest, kind person even if they’re a little slow than a smart liar with a bad attitude. Plus, he really doesn’t smell all that bad, we’ve started heating up water on the stove so baths are much more pleasant.”

Drayton raises a suspicious brow and you realize your phrasing makes it sound like bathing is a shared event. Which it is, but again, he doesn’t need to know that. “I like taking regular baths, so he’s just gotten in the habit of taking one after I’m finished with mine. He locks me to the stair bannister while he’s in there.” you quickly add, hoping it doesn’t sound like you’re trying too hard with your story.

“Mmhm,” Drayton murmurs. He’s quiet for another moment, then says: “I hope you ain’t lettin’ him use the stove to heat up that water. Damn nitwit’s nearly burnt the house down more’n once.”

“He takes care of the fireplaces just fine, I think he can handle the stove.” you say a bit snottily.

“That’s true,” Drayton concedes and you’re pleased with your tiny victory, but then it all goes to shit when he adds cheerfully, “Speakin’ of which, it ain’t been cold enough to light them fires for well over a week now. Why, even ol’ grandpa and grandma’ve been moved back upstairs. So I’m thinkin’ it might be time for you to get back up there, too. If Bubba’s so sweet, don’t you think you oughta give him his bed back now that you ain’t gonna freeze upstairs no more?”

Despite the upwards inflection at the end of his sentence and suddenly amiable tone, it very clearly isn’t a question and you try not to gulp too loudly. To the best of your knowledge Drayton is unaware that you and Bubba have actually been sleeping together. You always make sure to get out of bed before he wakes up, and Bubba doesn’t join you in the sofa-bed until Drayton’s gone to sleep in his own room. On top of that, whenever you and Bubba get each other off in the early mornings or before sleeping you always muffle your moans and squeals to ensure he doesn’t hear them. You try to stay cool. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.He _has_ been stuck on the floor for awhile now, and I think if I have a few extra blankets still I’ll be fine upstairs.”

“Mmhm,” Drayton murmurs again, and you keep your mouth shut after that.

 

Bubba’s waiting on the front porch when you come rattling back up the dusty driveway, and he runs down the steps and starts pulling you out of the truck before it even comes to a complete stop. He begins untying you as quickly as he can, and you’re uncomfortable with the suspicious way Drayton’s watching and you wish Bubba would calm down a bit. You almost wonder if he no longer cares if his brother knows what’s going on between you, but surely if that was the case he would have kissed you as soon as you returned home? You decide to continue leaving the decision to officially disclose your relationship status up to Bubba, but Lord, you hope you don’t get stuck alone with Drayton again before that happens. You’re not sure if you’d be able to smoothly deflect an interrogation any more persistent than the one you just went through.

Drayton stays in the truck with the engine running while Bubba unties you, then finally drives away to open up the gas station once Bubba fastens your leash to his belt. You’re immediately unfastened as soon as the truck is well out of sight, and the rest of the morning and afternoon is spent preparing the garden plots. You and Bubba had picked out some unused places with plenty of sunlight and within reach of the water, then readied the soil by weeding it and mixing in lots of composted chicken manure. You aren’t a master gardener by any means, but you know some basics and Bubba knows some basics as well, so surely between the two of you you’ll manage a successful crop. “I wonder what kind of seeds your brother’s going to buy?” you say as you pluck a rock from the soft, fertile soil of one of the plots and toss it aside. Bubba’s holding a huge, wriggling worm up close to his face and for one horrible second you wonder if he’s about to eat it, but he’s apparently just studying it because he only shrugs and puts it back down in the garden bed. Then he starts gently covering the worm back up with dirt and it’s insanely adorable. “What kind of vegetables are your favorite? Cucumbers? Tomatoes? Collards? Peppers?”You run through every vegetable you can think of, and Bubba nods at each of them equally, declining to indicate a favorite. Well, you already know by now that he’s not a picky eater. So far fresh vegetables have been a rarity on the Sawyer table, though the odd can of green beans, corn and peas make occasional appearances. You’re absolutely craving fresh greens on a regular basis, but even more than that you’re craving protein that isn’t chicken or eggs and your one can of baked beans Drayton allows you per week. You’re not desperate enough to start eating people yet, but you hate how close you’re coming to considering it. The wonders that Drayton can work in the kitchen with minimal ingredients is impressive - you only wish he was working with pork or beef instead of humans. But hopefully tonight you’ll get the chance to find out what he can do with some quality beef, and you can hardly wait. But speaking of tonight…

“Hey babe, I’ve got some bad news,” you say sadly as you wipe your dirty hands in the grass, and Bubba immediately looks alarmed so you hurry to add, “Drayton says it’s time for me to move back upstairs for the night.He said now that it’s warm there’s no reason for me to keep sleeping on your bed while you’re _“stuck sleeping on the floor”_.”You add that last bit with a naughty smile, trying to lighten the mood, but Bubba looks like someone just told him his dog was hit by a car. “I know it’s a drag, but I think we’d better do it unless you want him to know what’s going on.”Bubba seems conflicted at that, but eventually he sighs heavily and shakes his head while looking utterly despondent.“Hey, we still have all day to mess around,” you say as you drape your arms over his big shoulders and he pulls you onto his lap. You’re trying to sound encouraging, but inside you’re feeling just as miserable as he looks. The idea of no longer getting to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his soft little squeals and hard, not-so-little erection rubbing against you is completely tragic. You won’t miss the snoring much, but oh how you’ll miss everything else. You think about asking Bubba to reconsider keeping things secret from his brother, but you hold off for now… though you have a strong feeling this secret won’t last for much longer either way.

 

You both take a quick bath well before Drayton’s due home, then head upstairs to get your bedroom back in order. You’d enjoyed a nice little make out session in the grass after preparing the garden plots, and as Bubba gently washes the dirt out of your hair with that sad bar of soap you wish you’d thought to ask Drayton to pick up some shampoo and conditioner as well. You wonder if he’ll ever trust you to leave the house… as much as you’d hate to leave Bubba alone during the day, you wouldn’t mind picking up a part-time job to help increase the family cash flow and maybe make some of those improvements to the house you’ve been fantasizing about, in addition to fresh toiletries and new clothing for both you and Bubba. And grandpa could probably use another outfit… and maybe even Drayton, too, if you’re feeling generous. Speaking of Drayton, your leash is just barely re-attached to Bubba’s belt when he finally arrives home and pushes open the door carrying a large bag of groceries. Bubba’s changed into his grandmother mask at this point like he does most evenings around dinnertime, and he hurries to take the grocery bag from his brother. He always tries so hard to be helpful, you think affectionately to yourself with a soft little smile.

“What’d ya’ get?” you ask, prying open the bag and poking your head in to look, and Bubba looks in curiously as well.

“Got just what ya’ told me: buncha seeds, some mighty fine porterhouse steaks and a six-pack of Lone Star. Got some collards as well, since you’re so crazy ‘bout veggies.” Drayton replies as he starts heating up the huge cast iron pan on top of the stove. Sure enough, at the bottom of the bag are about twenty packets of various vegetable seeds along with a large lump of meat wrapped up in butcher paper, a bundle of greens and a six-pack of lukewarm beer.

“Hallelujah,” you grin, pulling the beer out and putting it in the fridge, and Drayton grins as well as he fetches the oil and salt from the cupboard. There was probably some change left over, but you decide you don’t really care. There’s not much point in you asking for it back - you’ll just ask him to get that shampoo next time he’s out.

“Gimme them steaks, Bubba,” Drayton says with a smile, and Bubba babbles cheerfully as he hurries to obey. You don’t think you’ve seen Drayton this genuinely happy in the entire time you’ve been here, and all you can think about is how poverty and hopelessness can grind down the spirits of its victims so brutally that even the simplest luxuries like a good steak and a beer can have a tremendous impact. “Now get the table set and go get your grandpa, I’ll have these whipped up in a jiffy.” Drayton orders, though not unpleasantly, and Bubba babbles some more happy gibberish and does as he’s told. He whimpers his usual apology when he locks your leash to your dining room chair, even though you really don’t expect him to - you’re just used to it by now. You hear the sizzle of raw meat hitting the pan and before long the mouthwatering aroma of prime steak drifts from the kitchen while Bubba fetches his grandpa. Once the old man is placed in his chair at the head of the table Bubba leaves the room once more, but he returns for you after a few minutes, now wearing his dark blue suit, several extra jangly bracelets and his pretty-girl mask that you applied the makeup to for him. “It’s a fancy dinner tonight, huh?” you grin at him, and he squeals and nods with his own happy grin as he unties you from the chair and leads you to the living room to give you fancy makeup and lots of jewelry as well.

 

“You two look like a couple o’ painted whores,” Drayton sneers when he sees you and Bubba, but he’s not quite able to hide his smile. By this time the food’s on the table, and he’s once again proven his talent in the kitchen because everything looks and smells like heaven and you’re practically drooling as you cut into the perfectly-prepared steak on your plate. Everyone is silent and giddy as they take their first bites, and even grandpa seems to liven up a little as he chews his small bit of steak at a glacial pace.

“Been a long time since we had some beef in this house,” Drayton eventually says as he cracks open his beer, and you hear the hint of wistfulness in his tone.

“How long?” you ask, taking a swig of your own beer. At this very moment you can’t remember ever drinking anything so delicious in your entire life.

“Well, things started gettin’ tight around the time ol’ grandpa retired, then things just about shriveled right up into nothin’ when the boys lost their jobs. Whole town started dyin’ when them air guns was brought in, which made things tougher at the station, too. Hard to sell barbecue and gas when ain’t nobody around who can afford it.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” you murmur, taking note of the fact that apparently Nubbins also lost his slaughterhouse job despite Drayton describing him as smarter than Bubba. He may have been smarter, but clearly he still wasn’t fast enough to compete with a captive-bolt gun.

“Had to get creative to make ends meet,” Drayton continues, and you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“So who started the new _“family business”_?”

“Just sorta happened one day. A fella came to the house askin’ to use the phone that we ain’t even got, said his car broke down out on the road. He was a hefty one, big and meaty, though not as big as Bubba here. ‘Course that guy was mostly muscle, which is more’n I can say for this tub o’ lard…”You roll your eyes and give Bubba’s knee a squeeze beneath the table.“Anyway,” Drayton continues, “Seemed a shame to let all that meat walk away when I could barely afford to keep the barbecue in stock, so had Bubba take care of it. Sold like hotcakes, and ever since then we harvest when we can.”

“Is that how you got so many bones and skins around the house?” You’re feeling vaguely nauseated at the sheer number of victims that would total. How on earth have they not gotten caught already?

“Some of ‘em. But most of it were Nubbin’s collectin’ shit off the sides of the roads and diggin’ up graves. Goddamn fool just about got caught a dozen times over in Newt, all so he could do his _“art”_. Goddamn halfwit. Always was a weird one, just couldn’t keep hisself outta trouble after the slaughterhouse let him go. Hell, couldn’t stay outta trouble even before then. I _told_ him and I _told_ him to never leave his brother alone, but that little coonshit never listened and we got a chewed-up front door out of it.”

This is truly fascinating. It sounds like while Drayton isn’t bothered by the acts of murder, cannibalism and grave robbery, he doesn’t explicitly condone it, either. He’s still clearly psychotic even just for tolerating such behavior and for allowing the house to be decorated in death, but he seems more concerned with providing for his family and keeping them from getting caught. You wonder if this never would have happened if things had gone better for them, financially speaking… then you think about the last thing he said and it triggers a memory of something you’ve been curious about since your very first day here:

“What happened to the front door?”

“That fool sittin’ next to ya’ put his goddamn chainsaw right through it. Apparently he forgot how to use a doorknob.”

Bubba makes an unhappy noise and you squeeze his knee again. “Surely he had to have had a reason.” you turn to Bubba, “Were you locked out?”

Bubba nods, looking relieved that perhaps someone will come to his defense.

“He was chasin’ that blond girl and she ran in the house, but he didn’t think for two seconds that he could go around back. Weren’t no need to saw the damn door open. He’s got even less brains than he’s got pride in his home.” Drayton grumbles.

This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn. The evening had been going so well and now somehow it’s ending up with Bubba getting dumped on like usual. “Well, that had to be a pretty stressful moment, I would think,” you defend him, and before Drayton can retort you say, “And it’s not like you can’t fix a door. You can’t see any of Nubbins’s _“art”_ from there, so you could have someone out to replace it.

“You’re just as dense as he is, no wonder you two get along.” Drayton sneers. “You know we ain’t got money for that.”

You think for a moment, then say, “Well, I’ll make you another deal. I’ll give you the money to replace the door if you let me come to town with you to buy some other stuff.”

“Other stuff like what?”He’s looking at you shrewdly, but the fact that he didn’t immediately say no is a good start.

“Stuff like decent shampoo and some new clothes.”

He stays quiet for a moment and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. This entire day was probably the closest to bonding that you and Drayton have engaged in thus far, and you’re hopeful that just maybe you’re starting to get through to him… that maybe he’ll start seeing you as part of the family rather than a prisoner or pet. “We’ll see.” he finally decides, and you raise your second beer at him in acknowledgement before cracking it open and taking a deep swig. It’s been a long time since you’ve had any alcohol, and you hope that two beers is enough to make you forget about missing Bubba’s warm body beside you in bed tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, $15 in 1974 was worth between approximately $80 and $85 now, which is why Drayton was so taken aback. Man, inflation is crazy.


	17. Chapter 17

The night is long, lonely and miserable alone in your bed upstairs, and you’re not nearly drunk enough to get through it with ease. Bubba took you upstairs but didn’t lock you to the bed, of course, and after a few quick, frenzied minutes of desperate kissing and groping you reluctantly parted and Bubba whined sadly as he closed your bedroom door behind him. Now here you are, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, and though your stomach is pleasantly full from your delicious dinner you’re feeling empty and unsatisfied just a little bit lower. Normally by now your pussy would be stuffed with Bubba’s thick fingers or tongue and you’d be sighing in pleasure rather than disappointment. You close your eyes and remember that feeling… the slight buzz from the alcohol isn’t enough to stop you from wanting him, and you immediately give in to your urges and make yourself come within minutes, muffling your cries with your flat feather pillow. It feels hollow and only half satisfying, but at least the tension and release helps you fall asleep before long.

Bubba wakes you up so early the next morning that it’s still dark out, but you’re so happy to see him that you couldn’t care less. “Get over here, honeybear,” you giggle quietly as you roll out of bed to meet him halfway across the room, and his eyes light up even more when he sees you’re only wearing your lacy panties and what you’d been told is one of Nubbins’s old t-shirts. After a brief kiss on the mouth through his old-lady mask you get down on your knees and reach under his apron to start unfastening his trousers. “Hold this out of the way please, will you honey?” you say, and Bubba grins and squeals - though not too loudly - as he bunches the gingham fabric up around his belly, and you can feel him already quivering with excitement as you pull his semi-hard dick out of his pants. He grunts and gasps and pets your hair with his free hand as you suck and stroke him, trying to bring him to completion as quickly as possible. You don’t have much time before morning chores need to begin, and you’re hoping to squeeze in an orgasm for yourself as well. You use one hand to touch yourself so you can get a head start while pumping his thick cock with your other, and he shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from squealing too loudly when he comes. You swallow every drop - it’s best not to make a mess on his clothes before Drayton’s gone for the day. Once you’ve licked him clean and dry and tucked him back into his pants you get to your feet and he hugs you close for a moment, giving you kisses and grunting affectionately. Once he’s fully recovered he bends you back a bit so he can lean forward to reach, then rubs his fingertips against your crotch through your panties for a moment before slipping his hand beneath the waistband. You hike one leg up to wrap around his to give him better access and moan against his chest at the feel of his rough fingers sliding through your folds before dipping inside.

You’ve taught him to start out slow, but you’ve already gotten yourself warmed up while you were sucking him off and you’re ready for more. “Faster,” you whimper, and he grunts and complies. “Harder, baby, please,” you beg as your free hand joins his, rubbing your clit above his plunging fingers. Your pussy makes wet, squelching sounds with each thrust of his hand and your head tilts to the side as he nibbles little love bites against your neck, the points of his teeth scraping your skin and the wires of his mask pressing into your flesh. You can feel your pulse throb faster beneath the leather and metal as your orgasm builds, and you quickly turn your head again to moan against his shoulder when you come, clenching around his fingers and shaking and seizing in his strong, one-armed embrace. Your legs turn to jelly as you start to come down, and if he wasn’t holding you up you’d be on the floor. Once you’re steady on your feet again you stand up on your tiptoes and he bends down to meet you. “Mmmm, good morning,” you murmur against his lips with a smile, and he mumbles his version of the same. It almost-sort-of sounds like the proper English words, and not for the first time you wonder if he might actually be capable of learning to really speak if given the right help. You wish that you’d majored in speech therapy, but perhaps you can convince Drayton to take you to the library in the next town and see if you can find some books that might help you learn how to help Bubba? Teaching him now probably won’t be as easy as it would have been if he’d gotten the proper assistance starting at a young age, but you have plenty of time and willingness to teach, and he’s got plenty of time and willingness to work hard, so it seems like a possibility. But that’s a question for later on. For now you’ll be happy if Drayton lets you leave the house just for proper haircare supplies and clothes.

 

You’re feeling especially hostile towards Drayton this morning for denying you your sleeping partner, but try to act normal so he won’t figure out why you’re annoyed with him. “Morning,” you say in a pleasant conversational tone as you and Bubba enter the kitchen and find him frying up eggs for breakfast. He returns your greeting and asks after grandpa like always, and fortunately doesn’t seem to be looking at you or Bubba in any unusual way - hopefully it hasn’t even occurred to him that you’re unhappy to be sleeping alone. You feel just a _tiny_ bit less-annoyed with him when breakfast is served, as the eggs are especially tasty this morning having been fried in the leftover fat, salt and oil from last nights steaks, and there’s even some leftover collards as well. Once Drayton’s gone to the station and the kitchen mess is cleaned, you and Bubba head outside straightaway to get started on the garden.

“Oh boy, which ones should we plant first, and where should we plant them?” you grin, dumping the bag of seed packets on the ground between you and Bubba. You’re sitting cross-legged on the grass facing each other in front of one of the garden plots, and Bubba spreads the seed packets out with his big hands so you can both get a better look. You’re almost 100% positive that he can’t read - hell, you’re not even sure if Drayton can - but he can certainly identify the contents of each packet from the illustrations and he picks each one up in turn, studying the picture and giving the packet a shake to hear the seeds rattling around inside. You’re not sure what shaking them has to do with his decision-making process, but he’s clearly having fun so who cares? He’d probably sit here forever just inspecting the packets over and over if you don’t intervene, so eventually you say, “You pick one out first, hon.”Finally he decides on one and hands it to you, babbling something that sounds both very serious and very excited at the same time.

“Sweet corn, huh?” you read and he nods. “Sounds good to me! I think we should plant them in that plot over there, corn needs lots of room to grow tall. What do you think?”He nods again, still looking very serious-yet-excited. He’s apparently having a blast already but trying to keep focused, and he’s just about the cutest darn thing you’ve ever seen. You use the rusty old garden hoe that he’d found in one of the barns to form a long, thin mound down one of the plots and he follows along behind you, making indents in the mound with his thumb and dropping seeds into them before covering them with dirt. You trade off hoeing and seeding duties for nine more rows, then give the entire plot a good, deep watering with the leaky old hose. “Next!” you announce once the water is turned off, and Bubba grabs your hand and leads you back over to the pile of seed packets, babbling excitedly. He pushes them towards you, indicating that it’s your turn to choose. “Let’s see…” you hum, inspecting each packet. It really doesn’t matter which one you pick since they’re all going to get planted eventually anyway, but Bubba’s watching and waiting for your decision like he’s hoping for his Bingo number to be called. “I choose this one.” You hold up the packet of cucumbers, and Bubba nods and babbles his approval.

 

You take a break for lunchtime and while Bubba makes sandwiches for you, him and grandpa you mix up some sweet tea. “Hi grandpa,” you say when you enter the room and take your seat on the floorboards. The old man never replies, but you figure it can’t hurt to talk to him anyway. Who knows, it’s possible he can hear you and it’s gotta be an extremely boring existence just languishing away alone upstairs for most of the day and night, even if he’s asleep for 90% of it. Bubba digs into his sandwich as you fill grandpa in on your day thus far: “Bubba and I are planting a garden. So far we’ve got sweet corn, cucumbers, okra, lettuce and collards planted, and after lunch we’re gonna try to get some tomatoes, peppers and watermelons in the ground, too. Drayton even bought eggplant seeds. Pretty fancy, huh?”As usual grandpa stays silent, but he does crack open his bleary old eyes and licks his crusty old lips as you speak. Bubba squeals happily, agreeing with your assessment of eggplants as _“fancy”_ food. You don’t even know how to cook them, so you just hope Drayton does. “Oh, and black-eyed peas, too. Those are one of my favorites, I can’t wait for those to get ripe even though they’re gonna be a lot of work to pick.” you say between bites of your sandwich. “And we found all kinds of crazy bugs in the dirt. Bubba found a worm that was almost ten inches long, can you believe it?”Bubba sets down his sandwich so he can hold up his hands to demonstrate, and he babbles for a good fifteen seconds describing his discovery.“It’s pretty fun, huh B-Bubba?”You almost accidentally call him _“babe”_ , but manage to redirect yourself into saying his name instead. Not that it really matters. You could fuck like rabbits right here in front of grandpa and the old man wouldn’t be able to tell Drayton about it. That thought makes you giggle, and Bubba giggles as well although you know it’s for a different, likely much-more-innocent reason.

After all three of you have finished eating, grandpa’s toileting needs are taken care of and he and grandma both get their loving kisses and pats from their sweetheart of a grandson. Then it’s back downstairs to clean up the lunch mess, and then out to the garden to continue planting the remaining seeds. The last plot is near the hoard of cars that’s somewhat concealed behind sheds, fences, and a sort of camouflage netting. When you first stepped foot on the Sawyer property you assumed that they were just the typical beater cars that lay broken and abandoned on so many rural properties: purchased at junkyards and used car lots by folks too poor to invest in a quality vehicle, driven till they died and then left to rust or picked into pieces to sell off the parts… but now you know the truth. You see a rainbow colored peace sign painted on a Volkswagen Beetle and quickly look away, not wanting to imagine who might have painted it. You very rarely think about the people who end up in the freezer anymore. Now that you’re no longer chained at Bubba’s side during the day you typically choose not to be present when he’s doing that job. You’ve come to terms with the fact that it happens, but you’d rather not see the faces or hear the screams. You’re trying not to start seeing some people as meat like Bubba and Drayton do, but you fear that it’s happening anyway. And even worse, there’s a sick part of you that is somehow turned on by watching Bubba land the killing blow… by seeing him raise that heavy sledgehammer high above his head and bring it back down like Hephaistos himself, by seeing his brute strength in action and the flex of his muscles as he focuses all of that terrifying power into one single point on the top of his victims skull. It’s so hard to comprehend such violence being routinely carried out by the sweet, gentle, simple man at your side who is currently distracted by a pretty little butterfly fluttering past his face - the face that he keeps hidden beneath the skins of the people who once owned all these cars. Why does he wear them? You wish you could ask, but you don’t know how to do it in a way that he could answer. Even if he could speak properly you still wouldn’t know how to approach the subject, and Drayton’s been no help whatsoever in uncovering Bubba’s motives - he just claims that Bubba’s an _“ugly idiot”_ , and _“who knows what’s goin’ on in that pea-brain of his?”_. Though you suppose that Bubba can’t explain why he wears the masks to Drayton any more than he can explain it to you. You can’t tell if Bubba is ugly from what limited skin you can see, but even if he is you doubt that you’d care. Just his eyes and the expressions he shows in them are enough to endear him to your heart, and his plush, eager mouth endears him to the rest of your body. Even if he’s horribly deformed under there, if whatever inbreeding or genetic malfunction that caused his retardation and abnormal teeth has caused other deviations from the accepted norm, it would have to be unspeakably bad to outweigh all of the good things about him. So bad that you can’t even imagine what that might even look like.

“That sure is a pretty butterfly,” you observe as it flitters in your direction, and Bubba nods as he watches it fly towards you - but his eyes stop following it once it flutters past your face. His gaze then stays on you instead, and when you look at him again he says the one other word he can articulate besides _“Uh-huh”_ and _“Uh-uh”_ :

“Pretty.” He looks bashful as he says it, as he always does when he calls you that, and while it’s incredibly cute you can’t help but find it a bit funny that he can still be so shy around you sometimes considering how many times you’ve sucked his cock and jerked him off and he’s had his fingers and face buried in your cunt.

“Thank you, honey,” you smile at him, then lean forward to give him a little kiss. “You’re so sweet to me, I’m so lucky I’m your girl.”You take his dirt-covered hand in your own and he makes a low squawk like an embarrassed chicken - if chickens can feel embarrassment - then reaches his other hand towards your legs. You’re expecting him to grab you and pull you onto his lap for another outdoor make-out session, but instead he plucks a tiny little daisy out of the grass and brings it to your face, and when you smile at him he clumsily tries to tuck it into your hair behind your ear, squawking softly the whole time. He mostly just ends up crushing the poor flower, but you appreciate the sentiment. He really is too adorable to handle, and you love that his indifference to or ignorance of gender roles allows him to happily accept your daisy offering in return. It doesn’t stay in the messy, dead, slightly-stiff curls of his mask very well and you’re hit with an idea: when you were a little girl you and your best friend used to make daisy chains to wear as crowns, imagining yourselves fairy princesses or woodland nymphs. Something tells you that considering how much Bubba loves pretty, delicate, even feminine things, he would in no way be opposed to being a fairy princess or nymph himself. The thought of such a huge, hairy man wearing something diaphanous and shimmery makes you giggle, and though you can’t give him a tiara made of glittery rhinestones, you _can_ give him one made out of daisies. You let go of his hand and he watches entranced as you pluck several more daisies and begin weaving them into a chain, and once you’ve got about five flowers connected he starts picking some near himself and begins trying to copy you. You gently guide him through the process, and apparently his sewing skills are coming in handy because he picks up on it pretty quickly. “Ta-dah!” you announce as you place your finished daisy crown on top of his head, and he babbles happily and does the same for you, looking just as excited as he did when you first did one another’s makeup. “Now we’re both extra-pretty!” you giggle, and Bubba squeals and slaps his knees, sending little clouds of dirt into the air.

It’s nearly dark by the time the last patch of seeds is watered, and after throwing some feed to the chickens you and Bubba head back towards the house just as Drayton returns home. “What in the blue hell are you two wearin’ on yer heads.” Drayton sighs when he sees you both. It’s not even a question, but more of a beleaguered sort of resignation at having to put up with such silliness.

“Excuse you, but we’re fairy princesses, thank you very much.” you say loftily, sticking your nose in the air and Bubba giggles and mimics your posture.

Drayton frowns and says crankily, “You even plant them damn seeds or did ya’ just play around with flowers all day?”

“Oh we got them all planted all right. We’re fairy princesses, remember? We can do anything.”

“Sweet merciful Jesus, take me away…” Drayton mutters under his breath, but you ignore him and continue:

“We got the corn, cucumbers, okra, collards, tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, watermelons, eggplants and black-eyed peas all planted. Assuming even half of those make it that’ll be plenty of food, and I bet you’re going to cook some amazing things with all of it.”

“Quit tryin’ ta flatter me, it ain’t gonna work.” he grumbles, but you can see him puff up with pride just a little all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I know not much really happened in this chapter, but I just wanted to write Bubba + flower crowns because c'mon - how can you not? ^_^


	18. Chapter 18

It seems that you’ve gotten the garden planted just in time, because the very next week sees the temperatures steadily rising till they start reaching uncomfortable levels by midday. It takes heavy watering early each morning to keep the seedlings from wilting under the hot Texas sun, and frequent bathing to keep Bubba from stinking so badly that you don’t want to be near him - although you don’t smell like a rose yourself by the end of a long, sweltering day. One good thing about the heat is that it makes cooler baths appealing rather than unpleasant, so at least you spend less time heating up water. But one bad thing about the heat is that it makes getting frisky a bit _less_ appealing. The heat drains your energy and your libido, making you just want to sit around and drink iced tea in the shade with no clothes on. Bubba, on the other hand, is always ready for a romp in the hay no matter how hot and tired he is - his stamina in all things is truly impressive. You’re considering moving any sexual activity to the meat locker for the next several months since it’s the coolest place in the house, but you’re not quite that depraved - or deprived - yet. So instead you and Bubba make mornings right after breakfast your allotted bedroom playtime: after Drayton leaves for work, but before the sun heats up the house like a pressure cooker.

After one such romp you and Bubba lay on your backs on top of the sofa-bed, naked and spread out and trying to cool down after a pretty vigorous round of oral for you both. Normally you snuggle up together in the orgasmic-afterglow, but it’s too hot for that to feel good for long so at the moment you make do with holding hands. Flies buzz lazily around the window in the stagnant air, bonking into the glass from time to time, and Bubba’s poor pet hen looks like she’s got one foot in the grave. At least you’d managed to find a larger cage in one of the barns, so now she can spread herself out as flat against the cage floor as you and Bubba are on the mattress. You lay there just holding hands for what must be over an hour, and you’re wondering if Bubba would be open to having you sit on his face next time as long as you continue to keep your eyes closed - and you’re pretty sure the answer to that will be _“yes”_ \- when a random thought that you’d had long ago suddenly pops into your mind.You prop yourself up to look at him and ask, “Hey honey, have you ever touched yourself like how we touch each other?”

Bubba suddenly looks deeply ashamed and he nods his head like a child confessing to some minor misbehavior that in their own mind is a heinous crime.You’re surprised because while he’s sometimes shy during sexual intimacy, so far he’s never seemed outright ashamed by any of it.“It’s alright, Bubba, it’s perfectly natural and normal. You shouldn’t feel bad about it.” you try to soothe him, but he shakes his head again and then straightens one of his arms and brings it down forcefully on his other and you suddenly understand: Drayton must have punished him for masturbating.“Did your brother hit you if you did it?” you ask, trying and failing to keep the anger out of your voice and Bubba nods, looking like he wants to disappear into the mattress. You suddenly want to kick Drayton in the balls so hard that he chokes on them for hitting Bubba for engaging in a completely natural behavior… but you also recognize that he’s from a different generation, one well before the sexual revolution and one much more uptight about sexuality.You could begrudgingly understand him discouraging Bubba from doing it, but again, not by hitting him, and especially not if he did it in private. A few of the more severely retarded residents in the more highly-supervised ward of the group home sometimes masturbated at inappropriate times and in inappropriate places, but Bubba is _not_ severely retarded and it’s hard for you to imagine him doing that, especially if he got physically punished for it. Even though now you and Bubba get each other off on a regular basis so there is really no need for either of you to do it anymore, you suddenly feel a very strong need to try and undo this conditioning and wipe any lingering shame out of his mind.

“He shouldn’t have done that.Making yourself feel good that way is completely normal and okay.I did it all the time before being with you.Sometimes I did it every day.”Bubba’s eyes widen in surprise and he earnestly babbles something that you wish you could understand, but it seems like he’s asking for more information. Oh, you’ll happily give him more information. “Would you like me to show you?” you ask with a naughty little smile, and his eyes get even wider as he vigorously nods. He looks both excited and nervous, like you’ve just agreed to tell him your deepest, darkest secret, and while he desperately wants to know it he’s also a little afraid. You, on the other hand, are feeling excited without any of the nervousness.You’ve never masturbated in front of anyone before - you’re not an exhibitionist and if there was a man you were intimate with right in front of you you’d rather interact with him directly. But with Bubba you have the freedom to try all sorts of new things and you can’t imagine him reacting any way other than positively to the show you’re about to give him.

“First I think about the person I want to be with. I think about how much I like him, how much I care about him and want to spend time with him. That’s the most important part, caring for the person and wanting to treat them nicely and make them feel good.”Bubba babbles something and points to you before pointing to himself.“Yes, Bubba, I care about you. I like you so much and I want to make you feel good all the time, both your body and your heart.”He seems pleased, but then he babbles more insistently and points at himself before pointing at you again.“You care about me and want to make me feel good, too?” you guess and he nods, looking relieved that you understand what he’s trying to communicate.“You make me feel _very_ good, honey, you treat me so nicely and I’m so happy I’m your girl.” you say sweetly, and you can see him practically melting at your words. “And that’s why it’s normal and natural to do this… it feels good, but it’s also like sending some love to the person you’re thinking about even though they aren’t there with you. Does that make sense?”Bubba thinks for a moment, then nods. You’re not sure what words Drayton used to make the act feel shameful, but you’re hoping that connecting it to loving emotions instead will help Bubba get past whatever his brother said. Because while Bubba’s proven to be quite a sexual being, he also obviously has feelings that run deep.

“Then I think about how handsome he is,” you continue, and Bubba watches completely hypnotized as you bring one of your hands to your breasts and the other down between your legs. “How much I like his face and his body, how much I want to kiss and touch him, and how much I want him to kiss and touch me, too. I think about the nice things I want to say to him… what I want to say to you.”You look at his face for that last sentence and his gaze darts back up from your crotch to meet your eyes. “I did this two times when we were sharing a bed this winter before we even kissed, and I was thinking about you while I did it,” you confess, teasing your fingers through your pubic hair and Bubba lets out a pained-but-excited whine. “Did you ever do it while thinking about me?” you ask, and though he hesitates, he eventually releases a shaky breath and nods. Heat rushes to your core - thinking about him jerking off to thoughts of you is incredibly arousing, as is the fact that you turned him on enough even back then that he would risk incurring Drayton’s wrath by doing it. Images of him hiding in the locked bathroom while tugging on his hard cock and maybe biting down on a towel to muffle his squeals is the hottest thing you’ve imagined in a good long while.“Will you show me?” you ask, dipping your middle finger inside of your cunt to collect some of the wetness already accumulating there, and to your delight this time he doesn’t hesitate before nodding.

He brings one slightly-trembling hand to his mouth and licks his palm, then reaches down to his half-hard cock. Though so far you’ve been able to bring him to climax quite easily, you’re still interested to see him pleasure himself - it’s a great way to learn exactly what he likes since he’s unable to tell you with words. You watch as his hand wraps around his shaft, thick fingers enveloping his hard flesh and he rubs the pad of his thumb lightly over the tip.He’s touching himself more gently than you expected, but it really shouldn’t surprise you - you’ve learned that he’s quite sensitive, after all. “You’re so handsome, Bubba, so sexy,” you sigh, and he sighs as well. Usually you close your eyes while doing this, but you fight off that urge so you can watch what he’s doing. “When we first started sharing the bed I wanted so badly to cuddle up with you, but I was too afraid. You’re so big and strong and warm, and you smell so good.”Well, most of the time, you think to yourself with a little smile, feeling grateful once more that you’d thought to use the stove to heat water, for the comfort of having a not-freezing bath has drastically increased their frequency. “I just wanted to climb on top of you, to feel your arms around me and your hard cock against me.” You briefly wonder if he’s familiar with that particular slang word, but it seems that he is because he groans and squeezes himself harder, then starts slowly stroking his fist along his length. “God, Bubba, you look so fucking good,” you murmur, and he makes a noise like a bashful puppy. You pinch and twist at your nipples one after the other as you slip a second finger inside of your cunt, and he watches completely riveted and pumps himself faster… then to your surprise he starts toying with his own nipples with his free hand much like how you’re doing to yourself. He doesn’t comb his fingers through his chest hair the way you like to do, but other than that it’s quite similar to the way you touch him and you’re pleased to learn you’ve been doing that part right so far.

“I get so wet thinking about you touching me,” you sigh as your fingers get slicker and slicker, and when you notice the precum dribbling from his slit you add, “And I’d imagine you getting wet for me too, just like you are now.”Bubba groans as he spreads that wetness all over the head of his cock till it’s shiny and pink, his foreskin fully retracted and veins swollen and throbbing, ready for release. The sight is driving you wild and you consider abandoning this experiment and just jumping on his dick and riding him like a mechanical bull right now… but instead move your hand from your breasts to lick your own fingers, then rub your aching clit in quick little circles as you plunge a third finger as deep into your pussy as you can. “I… I’d think about you making me come…” you gasp, rubbing yourself faster and struggling to form sentences, and even though you want to keep watching him you finally can’t stop yourself from closing your eyes when your climax is only seconds away. “B-Bubba, you’re gonna make me come,” you gasp with your last bit of breath, and while that’s not technically accurate since he hasn’t laid a finger on you, the sentiment is still very much there. You keen and wail as mind-numbing pleasure rushes through you from head to toe, every muscle drawn tight as you arch off the bed. Bubba moans and squeals as he watches you, and you open your eyes again just in time to see his own climax hit. It’s the first time he’s managed to hold out until you finish first, no doubt because he was in control of his own stimulation, and as his cum streaks across his stomach he bellows in a way you haven’t heard yet: it sounds like he’s in as much agony as he is ecstasy, and you somehow get the feeling that he’s just released some pent-up mental baggage in this endorphin-fueled catharsis.

“Oh, Bubba, I love seeing you feel good,” you smile as he comes back down to earth, gently stroking the bit of his neck not covered by his mask. Once his breathing returns to normal you’re expecting him to pull you on top of him to cuddle like usual, even if only for a moment thanks to the sweltering heat, but instead he tilts his head down and you look up into his big, brown eyes… and while they’re soft and loving like always after sharing intimacy together, you’re startled by how nervous they are as well and you’re instantly worried. Did you push him too far? Is his old shame coming back after engaging in this forbidden activity?“Honey? Are you okay?” you ask hesitantly, frantically trying to figure out how you’re going to talk him down, but before you can say another word he reaches up with a low, anxious squawk and begins slowly loosening the leather lacing that keeps his mask secure. You hold your breath and watch, hardly able to believe what you’re seeing as he pulls the mask up over his head and off, at long last revealing his true face.

He straddles the line between handsome and cute, and the first thing you think is what a shame it is that he keeps such a lovely face covered up. His hair is dark, almost black, thick waves that are somewhat plastered to his head from perspiration and being flattened by the mask. His eyebrows are thick as well, and right now they’re knitted in an anxious little expression. You’re quite familiar with his mouth, having seen and kissed his full lips many times and being treated to his crooked-toothed smile every day, but seeing it placed in context with the rest of his face makes it look even more delicious. You’re not sure when he shaved last and his five o’clock shadow is coming in strong, but his sideburns are carefully-shaped and you find it charming and slightly unexpected that he keeps his facial hair so well-groomed. Perhaps it’s a holdover from the days when he worked outside the home? His face is masculine with a strong brow ridge and nose, but just like the rest of him there’s a little bit of softness to it as well, particularly around his jawline and cheeks. You reach out to lightly touch his cheek with the tips of your fingers and he sucks in a little breath, but then he closes his eyes and sighs when you cup his jaw in your palm and stroke your thumb along the corner of his mouth.

“Bubba Sawyer, you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.” you say softly, and he whimpers and opens his eyes again. He’s already flushed from the heat, his orgasm, and probably nervousness at taking off his mask, and he blushes even harder when he sees how you’re looking at him. “Thank you, honey,” you whisper, then scoot in closer so you can start pressing soft little kisses all over his face from his chin to his forehead to the tip of his nose. He actually looks like he might start to tear up, and you whisper soft, soothing little noises against his skin. “Thank you for letting me see your face. I just knew you’d be so handsome everywhere, and I was right. Such a handsome, handsome man…” you say between kisses, and he whimpers again. “And your hair… I can’t believe how pretty your hair is.”His whimper turns into a moan when you run your fingers through it, massaging his scalp and fluffing the thick, dark waves. “Do you like being touched like this?” you ask and he babbles softly and nods, and you can feel his whole body finally start to relax. “So sweet,” you can’t help but murmur, and he continues to whimper and moan as you keep massaging his scalp and ruffling his hair, pressing little kisses all over his face again. His arms wrap back around you and he hugs you even closer, sighing in happiness and pleasure… and what seems like relief as well. It somehow feels like a weight has been lifted right off of his shoulders, and it makes your own heart sing in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep emphasizing how bad Bubba smells sometimes, but it’s a well-known anecdote that Gunnar stunk to high heaven during filming -particularly the dinner scene - thanks to the extreme heat and having only one costume that he wasn’t even allowed to wash. Let’s face it: Bubba is a large man who works hard and probably owns very few outfits, and considering the state of the house it seems likely that he probably doesn’t wash those outfits all that often. It’s also unlikely that he wears deodorant - and even if he did, I’ve known big, hairy guys who can sweat that stuff right off anyway. He’s most likely gonna stink like BO and butchering 90% of the time, not Axe Body Spray (thank god, haha). So yeah, I like stinky, sweaty Bubba, but fortunately for the reader in this story he enjoys taking baths, LOL!
> 
> Also, can I just say that you guys are the best readers in the world? Because you are. This story is getting the most consistent, lovely, oh-so-fun-to-read comments out of every story I’ve written, so I can only conclude that either A.) this is the best story I’ve written thus far or B.) Bubba fans are the best fans. I’m inclined to go with option B, because it makes sense that such a sweet boy would have such sweet fans! Much love to you all for your continued encouragement, I love it even more than Bubba loves having his hair played with, and that’s saying a lot. <3


	19. Chapter 19

The elder Sawyer brother returns home from work late that evening, and as usual he announces his arrival in what feels like the most annoying way possible: “Well I’ll be damned. Haven’t had to look at yer ugly mug fer ages.”

“He’s not ugly, he’s the handsomest man in the entire state of Texas.” you say snottily, and Bubba seems to curl in on himself with embarrassment. The poor thing can’t seem to handle compliments on his appearance quite yet.

“Oh really now?” Drayton says with that suspicious look he’s given you on and off since you and Bubba first became intimate, and you regret your words only for a second before deciding that defending Bubba against his brother’s insult was more important than not sounding suspicious.

“Well he’s certainly the most handsome man in _this_ house.” you say even more snottily, although that isn’t much of a compliment considering the competition. “I think it’s great that he’s taking off his mask. I don’t see why any Sawyer man shouldn’t take pride in his own appearance.”

That seems to have hit a nerve with Drayton, but in a good way. You’ve heard him yammer on from time to time about the importance of having self-respect and pride in the family home, and it’s clearly deeply important to him to be considered a respectable head of the household since grandpa’s more than just a little past his prime and obviously Bubba’s not cut out for the role.

“Well… he should at least shave that scruff off his face if he’s gonna make us all look at him. We don’t need no Sawyer man lookin’ like no damn longhair bum like his brother always did.” Drayton grumbles, and you’re desperately tempted to point out how messed up it is that he’s offended by a day-old beard while apparently being fine with Bubba wearing the dead skin of other people, but you hold your tongue.

“He’ll shave in the morning like a normal person.” you say just to shut Drayton up - you don’t actually know if Bubba shaves in the mornings or evenings or some other time, but it doesn’t matter right now. Right now you have something else more important on your mind: “So, have you given any more thought to letting me go to town with you to buy some supplies and arrange to have the front door fixed? Bubba and I discussed it, and he’s willing to come with us without his mask so he can help keep an eye on me if you’re still paranoid that I’m gonna try to make a run for the border.”

Drayton looks rather surprised at that. “Is he now? Well… I’ll be damned.”You stay quiet while he thinks, hoping that he’ll agree to your request… for not only are you desperate for new clothes and toiletries, but you’ve also been going rather stir-crazy lately. You’ve been confined to the property for nearly a year at this point, and just getting to walk amongst other people outside of the Sawyer homestead sounds deeply therapeutic. At last Drayton says to Bubba: “You ain’t been out around people since the slaughterhouse. You sure you ain’t gonna piss yerself or otherwise act a damn fool?”

Bubba nods and babbles some confident-sounding gibberish, and you’re extremely proud of him, even if he’s bluffing. After his breakthrough this morning you’d gently broached the subject, thinking that if he could just be out amongst people who really wouldn’t take much notice of him or his appearance one way or the other that it would help make the idea of going without his mask no big deal. He’s a large man, but not freakishly so and now that you know he’s not deformed it seems unlikely that he’ll draw any excessive attention from others by simply existing as himself. He might get a few second-glances because of some of his mannerisms and gestures or if he speaks too loudly, but you’ll try to keep him occupied so he won’t notice if that happens. He’d been nervous and uncertain about your suggestion - and probably still is now - but after an entire day of kisses, compliments, encouragement and ruffling his hair he finally agreed. _“I’ll take care of you, Bubba,”_ you assured him as you pet his hair as if he were a beloved puppy, and he looked into your eyes with just as much trust as a puppy and consented. It took a long time for you to gain his trust to the point where he’d show you his face, but now that you have that trust it appears to be utterly complete and total and without reservation. It’s like he’s been longing for someone to put his faith in, longing for someone to assure him that he is cared for and safe, and now that he’s found you he’s submitted completely and seems relieved to do so. It’s a big responsibility, but you’ve trained all your life to serve and protect and you’ve found no one else who needs and deserves that service and protection more than Bubba. It really is a win-win for you both.

“I dunno who needs a babysitter more: you or him,” Drayton mutters, running his tongue along his teeth as he considers his decision - if you still had an active income stream you would offer to pay for him to go to the dentist and get those couple of grey teeth taken care of before they fall out of his head. Once again you’re tempted to respond snarkily to his jab, but keep your mouth shut. Prodding him too forcefully will only make him more irritated and suspicious and inclined to deny your request. “Alright, we’ll all three go to town tomorrow mornin’. I ran outta gas today and the transport ain’t due till tomorrow evening so might as well.” he finally says, and you have to work hard to keep from hugging him in gratitude.

“Wonderful, thank you so much.” you say sincerely, putting on your most charming, appreciative smile, and he actually gives you his weird, slightly-creepy, slightly-nervous smile and nods once. Then he looks at Bubba and says sharply:

“You don’t let her outta yer sight for one single second, you hear me? Just ‘cus it’ll be around people ain’t no reason not to keep a close watch on her. Hell, you’d better keep _extra_ close track o’ her, you understand me? If she slips off into the crowd’n disappears I’m leavin’ you out there right along with her and you’ll have to get yer dinner outta dumpsters, you hear me?!”

Bubba vigorously nods and says a string of gibberish in a reassuring sort of way as he tugs lightly on your leash, indicating his understanding of the need to keep you close.

“Well alright then. You two set the table while I get supper goin’.” Drayton says in a much more genial tone as he heads for the kitchen, and you and Bubba follow along happily behind him. That went even better than you’d hoped, and Drayton ordering you both to set the table rather than just Bubba feels like a subtle indication that he’s at least subconsciously starting to think of you as part of the family.

 

“You ready for today, honey?” you ask when Bubba comes into your room to fetch you early the next morning. He’s wearing his gingham apron and grandmother mask like he always does in the mornings, but you suppose that old habits are hard to break. He tentatively nods and makes a nervous little squawk, then shuffles forward into your waiting arms for a hug. “It’ll be fine, I’ll take care of you, Bubba.” you murmur soothingly against his chest, and he relaxes just a bit and squeezes you tighter. “And hey, it might actually be fun!” you say brightly as you pull back to meet his eyes. “We can buy some new soap, maybe something that smells really nice and makes lots of bubbles… and we can get some new makeup, too! What do you think?” That perks him up considerably and he squeals and nods, and though it’s harder to see his mouth through this particular mask you can tell that he’s got a big grin on his face. You play with his necktie and add in a mock-serious tone: “And you’re gonna get some new clothes, Mister. The handsomest man in Texas deserves a new suit.”Before you know it your feet leave the floor so you’re pressed cheek-to-cheek, and he’s babbling something in a very happy tone, including his version of your name. He’s been practicing it for months, and it’s just about the sweetest thing a man has ever done for you because you know how difficult it is for him. You wish his mask was off so you could be pressed skin-to-skin, but you’re confident that will come later. Today will probably be pretty stressful for him, so you’ll let him keep it on for as long as possible before he goes out to quite literally face the world. You tickle and gently pinch the extra pudge at his waist so he’ll let go of you, and he sets you back on the floor with a giggle. He seems to have gotten over his body-image issues with you at last thanks to your constant compliments, and you’re glad for both his sake and also because you can’t keep your hands off his soft, furry belly and chest no matter how hard you try. He tries to tickle you back, but his fingers are too big and the blunt tips of them can’t accomplish much through your clothes - the only way he’s able to tickle you is with feather-light touches against your naked skin, and he certainly takes the opportunity to do it whenever he can… and you happily let him.

 

Drayton’s pulling a tray of warm, delicious-smelling biscuits out of the oven when you and Bubba come into the kitchen. “How’s yer grandpa?” he asks like usual.

“He’s fine, same as yesterday.” you answer like usual, and Bubba nods in agreement like usual as well.

“Did you shave that mess off yer face like I told ya’?”He stirs the dented sauce pan full of gravy on top of the stove and you sniff the air, trying to tell if it’s chicken or people. Bubba shakes his head, and Drayton looks like he’s itching to kick him right in his backside. “Well we ain’t leavin’ this house till you do.”

“He will, he’ll do it right after breakfast, won’t you h- huh?” You just barely manage to avoid calling him _“honey”_ , and you wonder how much longer you’re going to be able to keep up this platonic facade. Fortunately Drayton doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too busy taste-testing the gravy and adding more salt.

“Here’s what I was thinking for today,” you say between bites of your breakfast. It is indeed chicken gravy and you’re glad because plain biscuits don’t provide much fuel to make it till lunchtime. “We’ll go to the bank first so I can withdraw some cash, and I’m also going to put the rest of my money into my savings account. Then every month you can either drive me to the bank or let me go on my own so I can withdraw the interest. Half of that money will go to you for household expenses and to help pay for my keep, but the other half of that money is mine and Bubba’s and we can do what we want with it. What do you think?”The amount of interest you’ll earn on the stagnant balance of your money each month isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing. Then you curse yourself once again for making it sound like you and Bubba are a couple - you should have just said that one half of the money was yours alone. Sure enough, Drayton’s studying you with that shrewd, suspicious look that you hate and you try to look innocent.

“Let’s just see how you behave yerself today before we start talkin’ ‘bout monthly trips.” he eventually says.

“Okay, fair enough.” you agree, and the rest of breakfast is finished up while discussing which stores to visit in what order.

Drayton takes care of the breakfast mess for once because he demanded that Bubba go _“clean up his ugly mug”_ so you can all head out as soon as possible. You follow along as Bubba removes his apron, and after hesitating for only a moment he takes off his mask as well. “There’s that gorgeous face,” you coo softly enough that Drayton won’t hear, and stand up on your tiptoes and pull his head down to give him a quick kiss on his blushing cheek. His beard is really coming in strong now and you honestly wouldn’t mind if he kept it, but it’s his face and he can do what he wants with it. You’re just happy to see and touch it either way. You head to the bathroom where he pulls a straight-razor out of a drawer, and you watch as he lathers up his face with that sad, apparently all-purpose bar of soap and gets to work. You wince as the blade scrapes harshly across his skin and decide that shaving cream is absolutely being added to todays shopping list… and maybe a new razor, too. You want to take good care of that skin, after all. For some reason watching him do this is getting you kind of hot and bothered - it must be a combination of this masculine ritual and the fact that you didn’t have the chance to fool around at all this morning. “Bubba, you look so good,” you murmur once he’s toweled off his freshly-shaved face, then you run your fingertips along the edges of each of his newly-trimmed sideburns and add: “I can’t wait to feel this nice, smooth face between my legs.”

Bubba squeals and attacks you with a lusty kiss, and you’re always a little surprised - but pleased - by how quickly he can go from zero to ready-for-action at the slightest provocation. Much as you want to keep kissing him, if you keep it up for much longer he might start to get a little too turned on and the last thing you need is to face his brother while Bubba’s sporting a hard-on after being alone with you.

“You forget how to shave, ya’ damn nitwit?” that same brother suddenly yells from the hall, and you and Bubba break apart just in time before Drayton slams the bathroom door open and says: “Let’s get a move on! I wanna leave the house before dinnertime.”

“Yes sir!” you say with just a hint of brattiness, and he purses his lips and gives you an annoyed look.

“Two damn nitwits,” he grumbles, and you give Bubba a wink before following Drayton out of the bathroom. Your leash is left in a coil of leather and chain on the living room worktable, and you step out the front door unrestrained for the first time in Drayton’s presence. You automatically head towards the passenger side of the truck, but soon realize there’s a logistical problem: mostly thanks to Bubba’s mass, all three of you won’t fit inside the cab at the same time. Not comfortably at least.

“Shoulda seen this comin’, what with him bein’ such a fat hog an’ all…” Drayton mutters, and while normally you’d stick up for Bubba you need to be on your absolute best behavior from this point on so as not to jeopardize your chances of future trips to town. So instead you give Bubba’s hand a quick little squeeze while Drayton’s not looking. Eventually it’s decided that you and Bubba should ride together in the back of the truck so that Bubba can grab you if you try to leap out, and you try not to be offended by Drayton thinking you’d possibly be stupid enough to try that even if you _did_ want to escape. Oh well, you’re much happier sitting with Bubba in the back rather than in the cab with Drayton anyway, even though it’s going to be a bumpy, dusty ride. You hold Bubba’s hand with one of your own and grip the side of the truck bed with your other as the engine roars to life, and off to town you all go.


	20. Chapter 20

Your ass is sore from all the violent rattling around by the time you finally reach the bank, but the air felt cool and refreshing whipping past your skin as you drove down the highway. You climb out of the truck bed with Bubba close behind and Drayton waiting for you on the ground, then walk into the bank as casually as you can considering how Bubba is practically glued to your side. Drayton probably thinks he’s just keeping particularly close watch on you, but you know it’s because he’s frightened about stepping foot in a place of business for the first time in a long time. You can feel the anxiety radiating off of him in waves and oh, how you wish you could hold his hand and comfort him. Fortunately there aren’t many people at the bank today and you walk right up to the teller with Bubba beside you while Drayton hangs around the waiting area, still close enough to hear what you’re saying. Poor Bubba seems to be trying - and failing spectacularly - to hide behind you as you make the transaction, but nobody’s paying him any attention just like you’d hoped. You withdraw a considerable amount of money and fill out the paperwork to transfer the remaining balance into a higher-interest savings account, and even though the teller is a bit sulky and rude you’re just happy to be speaking with someone besides Drayton. “Have a nice day!” you say cheerfully as you head out the door with Bubba hot on your heels, but you don’t even care if you receive a reply.

Bubba is sweating and trembling by the time you make it back to the truck, and you really, _really_ hope that Drayton’s comment about Bubba pissing himself out of nerves when in public wasn’t an insult based in past incidents. “You did such a good job!” you praise him once you’re sitting in the truck bed again, patting his quivering thigh with one hand and he gives you a self-conscious little smile and tiny piglet squeal. You can’t seem to completely prevent him from getting himself worked up about certain things, but at least you seem able to talk him down and calm him before he gets too upset. Though you can’t really hear one another over the noisy roar of the engine and the wind whipping past your ears, you keep smiling and patting him reassuringly all the way till the next stop. Drayton’s paranoia seems to have decreased substantially after your performance at the bank, and he’s considerably more relaxed as you all walk into the hardware store to arrange the replacement of the door that Bubba chainsawed nearly a year ago. You’d happily pay to have the windows that poor Sally Hardesty jumped through replaced as well, but that would require hiding 90% of the furniture and decor so you’ll save that for a later date. Keeping in mind Drayton’s apparent psychological need to feel like the head of the household, you hand him a fat wad of cash before walking through the door and let him speak with the proprietor while you and Bubba peruse the chainsaw selection just for fun. Bubba started trembling again when he entered the store, but at least he’s a little bit less sweaty and you give his slightly-clammy hand a quick couple of squeezes while Drayton is occupied. “You’re doing fantastic, honeybear, I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, and Bubba whimpers quietly in return.

“They’ll be out next Thursday to fix the door.” Drayton announces as you all clamber into the truck once more, and though he doesn’t explicitly thank you for the money he’s in a downright chipper mood at this point and that’s absolutely worth paying for even just on its own. You take a break at the local diner for lunch, and you order and devour your gigantic salad with absolute relish while Drayton and Bubba dig into their huge plates of barbecue beef spare ribs.“There she goes, eatin’ those damn veggies. I think you got yerself a pet rabbit.” Drayton says to Bubba, but he’s smiling as he says it.

“Hey, there’s meat on here!” you protest with your mouth full, pointing to the strips of steak draped across the greens. “Excuse me for liking a little fiber every once in awhile. I don’t know how you guys and grandpa even manage to shit more than twice a year with how much meat you eat.”

Bubba doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that until Drayton laughs, so then he laughs as well. Though he’s still trying to hide behind you from the second you leave the truck bed till you climb back in, his anxiety has been slowly but steadily improving with each store and he doesn’t seem to be having any trouble eating his lunch. “The Sawyers have hardy constitutions,” Drayton says proudly, “Why ol’ grandpa’s a hundred’n eight years old, and it’s good, honest hard work and eatin’ plenty’a meat that done it.”

“That is impressive,” you concede. You knew grandpa was old as dirt, but this is the first time you’ve heard an exact number and if Drayton’s telling the truth that would be pretty amazing. Perhaps there are health benefits to cannibalism that science has yet to explore.

 

Next is the stop you’ve been most excited for: the department store the next town over. It’s a long drive, but it will have the widest selection of anything you could possibly want or need. The bank, hardware store and diner were relatively small, cozy establishments, but the department store is downright huge and bustling in comparison. Bubba’s eyes go wide and terrified when he sees it, and he whimpers more insistently and starts tapping his palms against his thighs as you pull into a parking space. “It’s going to be alright, Bubba, just stay next to me. I’ll take care of you, honey, I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Okay?” you say soothingly before Drayton gets out of the truck, and Bubba’s hands go still again as he takes a deep breath and nods. Then he looks at you with those trusting-puppy eyes and it squeezes your heart.

“Me and Bubba are going to look at shampoo and makeup and stuff like that,” you say once you enter the store, hoping that Drayton will go away for awhile so you and Bubba can enjoy yourselves without his commentary - and also so you can continue to comfort Bubba and calm him down with sweet, reassuring words. Fortunately Drayton’s in a good enough mood to leave you alone at this point, and he heads off to the housewares department to go look for some new pots and pans and barbecue supplies. “Ooh, can you grab an electric fan or two?” you holler after him, and he waves one hand behind himself in acknowledgement. Excellent. A fan will make the house much more comfortable. Shopping alone with Bubba feels downright domestic, and you’re in absolute bliss as now you can speak to him however you want without his brother overhearing. Being out in public together feels like you’re officially a couple, and it makes you stupidly happy. Bubba pushes the shopping cart and follows you to the bath and toiletries section, and together you inspect every single bottle of shampoo, conditioner and body wash. With each item he gets less anxious and more excited, and you ask for his opinion on the scent and packaging of each possible choice. You toss several bottles of your favorite shampoo and conditioner into the cart and let him choose the new soap and body wash. You also grab some nice, high-quality shaving cream for you both - you’ve been dying to shave at least your armpits for months - and a deliciously masculine-smelling aftershave for him as well as some new razors. You select multiple, _multiple_ sticks of deodorant for you both, and two new toothbrushes and paste for you and Bubba to replace the worn-out ones that you’d convinced Drayton to bring home about two months after you’d been taken captive - you’re hoping to prevent Bubba’s teeth from ending up nasty and grey like his brother’s. Bubba has kept mostly silent in the stores so far save for a few nervous whimpers, but he finally can’t help but make a happy little squeal when you suggest buying bubble bath as well. You have to explain to him what it is, and he looks like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever heard of in his entire life. Then he gets even more excited when you head to the cosmetics counter.

“Can I help you?” the saleslady asks in a slightly snobbish tone. She’s giving you both an unimpressed once-over, but you couldn’t care less and fortunately Bubba’s too entranced by the vast array of choices before him to notice.

“We just need to look for a bit and make up our minds. We’ll call you over if we need help, thanks.” Then you turn to Bubba and say, “Which ones do you like the most, honey?” God, calling him that in front of someone is so, so satisfying. The saleslady doesn’t seem sad to ignore you for awhile, and you and Bubba meticulously discuss every tube of lipstick, every compact of eyeshadow, rouge, powder and the brushes to apply them with, as well as mascara and eyeliner and the facewash to remove everything. Bubba wants to buy all of it, so you have to put your foot down and limit the final purchases to only a few varieties of each type of makeup - there are other things you want to buy today.

“Knew I’d find ya’ here. You two done yet?” Drayton’s voice suddenly comes from behind you and you both jump a bit. He has a cart of his own, containing a few pots and utensils and two standing electrical fans.

“We’re done with the makeup, but now we’re gonna get some clothes. Wanna come with us?”You’re expecting him to decline, but to your surprise he agrees and you all three head to the women’s clothing department first. Drayton and Bubba hover uncomfortably around the outside edge of the intimates section as you pick out some new panties and bras, and you also grab a sexy little chemise that will be fun during you and Bubba’s playtime and comfortable for sleeping in the summer. It’s lacy and delicate and you’re certain that he’ll like it. Then both men sit down on the chairs by the changing room while you try on a few new outfits, and you’re surprised once again when Drayton offers his opinions on your selections - and then you’re even _more_ surprised when you realize that all of his opinions are positive and complimentary. He sounds like a proud father when he tells you how pretty you look, and it’s shockingly not creepy at all. Well, mostly. There’s always going to be something a bit creepy about his smile, but you’re used to it by now. You keep it simple: just one new skirt, a pair of shorts and pants, two shirts - one long-sleeved and one short-sleeved - several pairs of socks and some sandals. Then it’s off to the menswear department. By this point Drayton’s apparently bored with clothing and states that he has no desire to watch you _“try to dress up that fat bastard”_ , so he wanders off to the automotive and landscaping departments, thank God. Bubba doesn’t seem to know where to begin shopping for himself - he seems rather overstimulated in general by now - so you instruct him to just stand there beside you and try to relax while you browse through the shirts and pants in his size. It goes pretty quickly since there aren’t many that are large enough to fit him properly, and in the end you wind up with a nice short-sleeved dress shirt similar to his current one, some crisp new black slacks and dinner jacket, and a rich, emerald-green necktie that goes nicely with his dark hair and eyes. You encourage him to try them on to make sure they fit, and while he’s reluctant to leave your side to go into the dressing room he eventually gives in. You grab a new short-sleeved dress shirt for Drayton while you wait for Bubba to change - just because you’re feeling generous - and nearly drop it when Bubba slowly emerges from the dressing room like a gigantic hermit crab fearfully peeking out of its shell. He looks unbelievably handsome, and you tell him so.

“You look absolutely fantastic, Bubba! I’ve never seen such a handsome man.” you gush, and he fidgets with both nerves and happiness. You steer him in front of a full-length mirror and ask, “Do you like it?”He stands up a little bit taller and nods, and you’re pleased to see just a tiny bit of pride mixed in with his bashful self-consciousness. “Oh good, because I _love_ it. We’re _definitely_ buying these.” you say with a grin, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and he gives you a little grin back. The last things to go in the cart are a new pair of cowboy boots and a package each of mens socks and underwear, as well as a new tie and dress shirt for grandpa. Then you go to the automotive department to track down Drayton.

“You two _finally_ done?” he says irritably when he sees you coming. “I thought you was gonna buy the whole goddamn store.”

“Not quite the whole store, I think there’s a few suitcases and bath towels left.” you reply cheerfully. No matter how cranky Drayton may get, you’re in far too good of a mood to let him bring you down right now. You head to the check-out counter and hand a staggeringly high sum of money over to the clerk, and the three of you are just barely able to carry all of the bags out to the truck.

“That’s a helluva lotta money you just spent,” Drayton says as you load the bags into the passenger side seat, and he sounds half suspicious and half grateful.

“Well, you’ve spent a helluva lotta money keeping me around for the last year, so just think of this as payback. No strings attached.” you say lightly.

“That’s true… you sure do eat more than Bubba’s chicken,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but at least I don’t shit on the floor,” you reply, and he laughs louder as he climbs into the truck.

 

It’s well into the evening but not quite dark by the time you near home again, but instead of going to the house Drayton pulls the truck into his gas station parking lot. “Gotta check and see if the transport’s been by, be right back. You best behave yourself.” he says threateningly. You’re not sure why his paranoia is back, but then again, you’re not sure why he makes half of the decisions he does.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not gonna go anywhere. There’s nowhere to run but that cow pasture anyway.” you grumble like a petulant teenager, and Drayton gives you a sour look but says nothing as he heads into the building.

You and Bubba sit quietly in the back of the truck and you consider starting up one of the clapping games that you’ve taught him - the kind that you’d played with other little girls on the playground in school - but before you can suggest it the quiet is disrupted by a loud, urgent lowing from that cow pasture across the road and you both look that direction. While most of the cattle are minding their own business and peacefully grazing in a big group, two of them are off on their own some distance away from the rest. It’s a bull and a cow, and the bull is licking the cow all over her backside, sniffing her sex and curling his lip, no doubt checking for pheromones or hormones or whatever signs indicate that she’s fertile and ready for him. While this cow is by no means a small animal, the bull is massive compared to her and before you can think you’re comparing their size difference to the difference between you and Bubba. You’ve never set arbitrary requirements for potential boyfriends being a certain number of inches taller or a certain number of pounds heavier than you, but damn if Bubba being so huge doesn’t turn you on.

“Well, good to see he’s taking care of his lady,” you say as casually as you can when the bull sticks his muzzle right under the cows tail, and though Bubba stays quiet he nods. He appears to be thinking hard while staring at the amorous beasts, and you’re pretty sure you have an idea of what he’s thinking about. Eventually the bull appears satisfied with the readiness of his mate and heaves himself up onto his hind legs with a grunt, draping himself over her back. She staggers a bit beneath his weight but stays standing, and he hangs on and starts frantically thrusting. Despite living in the country for quite awhile now, you’ve never seen two creatures of such immense size getting it on and it’s awkward-looking - almost humorous in fact - but it’s also weirdly, disturbingly arousing. You certainly don’t have a thing for watching animals fuck, but somehow seeing this explicit action while sitting next to Bubba is making you feel things you’d rather not be feeling in the gas station parking lot. You constantly see the chickens mating, but something about this feels different somehow. Before long the bull goes stiff and jerks his hips extra-forcefully, and the cow lurches forward and hunches her back. You’re no expert in cattle husbandry, but you’re pretty sure you’ve just witnessed at least one bovine orgasm. Panting and drooling, the bull slides slowly off of the cows back and you catch a glimpse of his large, pink, glistening wet penis and it makes your face feel hot. God, what is wrong with you? You glance at Bubba’s face and see that he’s blushing as much as you surely are, his eyes locked onto the display before him. You look down at his lap next and see he’s at least partially hard, then he meets your eyes for only a moment before his gaze roams hungrily over your entire body. He looks like he’s one step away from panting and drooling like that bull, and that settles it: if watching cattle screwing is enough to get both of you this riled up then it’s time to follow their example. Bubba is clearly ready, and you’ve waited long enough.

It looks like the bull is going to try for a second round, but mercifully Drayton shows up and ruins the mood, which you never thought you’d be grateful for.“It ain’t been by yet, which means it most likely won’t be till tomorrow. Maybe not even then. Worthless politicians can’t keep them damn Arabs in line.” he grumbles as he opens up the drivers side door.

“Well shit.” you reply, hoping that it doesn’t sound like you just got turned on by seeing cows fuck.

“Yer tellin’ me. How’s a man s’posed to make a living if he ain’t got no gas?”

“Maybe you should try eating more beans.” you snicker, and Bubba guffaws so loudly that it makes several of the cows across the road startle. Drayton wrinkles his nose at your juvenile joke before shaking his head and getting into the truck, and you and Bubba both giggle for awhile as the engine starts up and you finally head towards home. Your goal in making such a stupid joke was to try and get your mind off of sex, at least for a moment. You’re not going to get the chance to finally, _finally_ fuck the hell out of Bubba until Drayton leaves for work tomorrow, so you’re gonna do your damndest not to think about it too hard until then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Drayton's having trouble keeping his gas tank full both in the film and in this story because there was a gas shortage in 1973 (lasting through March of 1974) and 1979 in the United States due to many oil-producing Middle Eastern countries putting an embargo on petroleum products for political reasons.


	21. Chapter 21

“Have a nice day at work, I hope the transport comes today!” you call out with a wave from the front porch as Drayton gets into his truck the next morning. Bubba’s standing beside you and waving as well, and Drayton gives you both a nod and a single wave before rattling away down the driveway, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. According to the weather report it’s supposed to be a hot one today, and he’s wearing the new short-sleeved shirt that you bought him. He was surprisingly gracious in accepting your gift, then told you that your debt for the past year was more than repaid and that he wouldn’t allow any more big spending by you from here on out because _“the Sawyers ain’t no charity case”_. He has a lot of pride for a man who kidnaps people and eats them, you think wryly. Grandpa seemed pleased with his gift as well, and after Bubba helped him into his new shirt and tie you turned back around and were treated to the faintest of smiles on his wizened old face - and Bubba looked even happier than he did. It felt nice, and while buying clothing for a corpse is completely ridiculous it might be worth purchasing something for grandma anyway just as a show of respect and to make Bubba happy.

Last night after getting home from shopping was absolute torture. You’d wanted desperately to throw Bubba down on the sofa-bed and fuck him until he forgot his own name, but instead it was spent experimenting with your new makeup on one another while Drayton sat in his armchair across from you both, reading the paper. Apparently he is indeed literate - you weren’t sure for a long time. Occasionally he’d comment out loud on one thing or another in the news, and if you weren’t having your lipstick applied then you’d share your thoughts as well. He didn’t force you to put on your leash again until right before bed, and if you weren’t so incredibly horny it would have been a lovely evening. The quick little standing-up make-out session that you and Bubba share every night when he takes you up to your room was especially frenzied and desperate, and once he closed the door with a regretful little whimper you were immediately tempted to masturbate until you passed out, but refrained. Barring any unforeseen catastrophes you’d be venting all of this sexual frustration with the real thing soon enough, and though it was agony in the moment you knew the wait would make it even better. And now the wait is almost over.

“C’mon babe, let’s get the garden taken care of so we can play!” you grin while tugging lightly on the sleeve of his brand new shirt, and Bubba squeals and picks you right up off of the porch now that his brother is well out of sight. There’s no real reason for him to carry you, he just likes doing it and you certainly don’t mind it either. He sets you down in the garden and you haphazardly yank random weeds out of the plots while he waters everything as fast as possible while still making sure it’s thoroughly soaked. You can’t skimp on this chore or otherwise the heat will destroy the tender seedlings. Once the hose is turned off you suggest heading back to bed and he grabs you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He took off his grandmother mask after breakfast, but for the first time ever he didn’t replace it with any of his male masks right away and you kiss his bare neck and chin as best you can while he hurries back inside. He hasn’t shaved yet this morning and his stubble is a little bit scratchy against your lips, but you couldn’t care less - you’re definitely not delaying the proceedings for trivialities like shaving. Bubba sets you down gently on the sofa-bed and you recline back against the pillows, then he clambers onto the mattress beside you and immediately sticks his hand beneath your skirt to start pushing it up your thighs. The breeze from one of the new electric fans lightly ruffles his hair, and you’re so excited to make love with him without his mask that you can hardly stand it. You run your hands from his shoulders to his stomach, then fumble at the fastening of his pants and moan, “God, Bubba, I want you so bad… I want you inside of me, baby, please…”

Bubba straight-up _growls_ at that, and the sound alone is enough to ratchet up your arousal tenfold. Before you can even get his pants fully unzipped he suddenly grabs you rather roughly and before you know it he has you on your hands and knees and he mounts you from behind, his stomach and chest draped across your back as he grinds and thrusts his erection hard against your ass while shoving your skirt farther up towards your hips. He’s trying to fuck you the way that bull was doing to that cow and the roosters do to the hens, and his sudden aggressiveness sends a rush of wet heat between your legs - perhaps he’s not 100% submissive after all. It’s probably the only way he’s ever seen it done, and while you’re excited to try that position as well, that’s not how you want it this first time. You’re out of practice and he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing, so it’s best if you’re in charge to start with.

“Wait, Bubba, stop,” you call out loudly enough for him to hear over his excited squealing, and though he whines in disappointment he obeys. “You’re a big boy, we need to go slowly and gently at first so you don’t hurt me,” you clarify as he slowly slides back off of you. Now he doesn’t look disappointed but rather confused and anxious, and you suspect it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt you and didn’t even realize that was a possibility. “Remember what I said about that rooster awhile ago?” you remind him, and understanding dawns in his eyes as he vigorously nods. You smile and wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze. “I love that you’re so much bigger than me, and it’ll be fun to be a little more rough later. But let me show you what to do this first time, please.”Bubba nods and babbles something to indicate that he understands while patting your shoulders and arms in that way he does when trying to comfort and show affection. He’s being gentle now, and you’re hopeful that he’ll remember to stay that way throughout the intense experience he’s about to have for the first time. Despite the fact that this isn’t your first rodeo you're trembling with excitement already - you’ve never taken a man’s virginity before and it’s sexier than you expected it would be. The fact that it’s _his_ first rodeo somehow makes this even more arousing even though he’ll most likely be terrible at it to start with… although you have to admit he certainly surprised you when he went down on you like a pro on his very first attempt.

He leans down to kiss you, rubbing and patting his big hands all over your shoulders and back. He’s still being gentle, but you can tell he’s extremely excited and working hard to keep from getting too exuberant. He’s actually being _too_ careful now, so you ramp up the intensity of the kiss and move your hands down from his waist to his butt, pulling him closer to you and feeling his hard length pressing against your belly through his half-unzipped pants. You’ve been with men in the past who didn’t have much of an ass to speak of, but Bubba does _not_ suffer from that affliction and you squeeze both strong, meaty cheeks, his soft flesh more than filling your hands. You only get one really good squeeze in before you feel the muscles beneath the softness flex as he moves to lay you gently on your back, squealing excitedly against your lips and bracing himself over you on his hands. “Will you lay on your back for me, please, hon?” you request after a few more passionate kisses and he instantly complies, flopping over beside you so quickly that for a second you worry he may have broken the sofa-bed when he landed. You both hurriedly finish undressing and after your panties go sailing across the room you scramble on top of him and spread your legs wide to straddle his waist like you’ve been aching to do for what feels like forever. He grabs your hips and pushes you down towards his pelvis, wiggling beneath you and trying to rub his cock against your ass but you pluck at his fingers until he lets go. “Do you remember how that bull took care of his lady first? That will help get me ready to have you inside of me.” you say sweetly as you scoot back up towards his chest, and understanding dawns in his eyes once again. He nods and licks his teeth as your crotch edges closer to his face, but before you take a seat you check in with him: “Can we try you using your mouth on me like this, honey?”He squeals excitedly and nods even faster, and apparently he can’t hold back any longer because he grabs your hips again and effortlessly lifts you up and plops you right back down onto his face himself.“Jesus, Bubba, holy shit!” you gasp in surprise, and your hands go straight to his hair as he goes to town between your legs. He works himself up into a frenzy in no time and takes you right along with him, and he moans even louder against your sex when you gently tug his hair. “Do you like that, baby?” you ask breathily as you tug a bit harder, and he lets out a muffled squeal and nods, his nose rubbing against your clit and making you shudder. You figure that he’s strong enough to lift you up if he needs to breathe so you don’t hold back, grinding on his gloriously-unmasked face as he works his magic on you and within five minutes tops you’re coming hard against his lips and tongue - Bubba does not believe in wasting time when it comes to achieving orgasms.

You slide back down onto his chest once your quivering stops, leaving a trail of slick across his skin. “Mmmh, thank you baby, that was amazing. You’re so incredible at that… did you like doing it this way, with me on top?”Bubba nods enthusiastically and licks his lips, babbling affirmative noises and a few _“uh-huhs”_. You smile at him and scoot yourself further down towards towards his crotch, and he starts fidgeting as you raise yourself up over his rock-hard, bobbing erection. His hands are tapping against your thighs in a fast, repetitive tic, and before he can grab you again you gently instruct: “This will feel really good, I promise, but I need you to try not to move too much until I tell you to, please, okay honeybear?”He nods and holds his breath as you take hold of his cock and rub the blunt tip through your slippery folds, spreading slickness and teasing you both. Bubba starts panting and grunting and you feel a little mean for teasing him, but you have to admit it’s a turn-on to know that he’s such a good boy he won’t force himself into you no matter how much he clearly wants to… and he could easily do it as well. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out loud when you think about letting him take you by force, but for now you finally ease yourself down onto him at a snails pace, his hard flesh slowly parting your softness. His eyes roll back and when the fat head of his cock finally pops all the way in you gasp - it’s been so long since you’ve had a dick inside of you, let alone one this thick. He’s whining nonstop beneath you and gripping your thighs as though his life depends on it, but he’s doing an impressive job of staying still as you requested. He's wriggling around on the mattress, but he's managing not to thrust. You quiver and clench around him while you adjust to the stretch and his whining gets even louder, then the initial dull burn begins to melt into pleasure and you moan as you slide down another few inches. “Bubba… you’re doing such a great job, honey, you feel amazing,” you murmur, rocking a bit as your pussy flutters around him and he whimpers and whines like a whipped puppy, his thick fingers clutching your flesh hard enough to leave bruises. You slowly sink down the rest of the way till he’s buried to the hilt, and he’s being so loud now that it actually almost makes you laugh - you’ve never been with a man this vocal in the bedroom but you love it. It seemed that most of your boyfriends had tried to be stoic and _“manly”_ , keeping mostly quiet right up until they orgasmed, as if making noise was somehow a shameful sign of vulnerability or something. But Bubba is a talker in general, and either he can’t help but continue to be so during sex or he just doesn’t know or care if it makes him seem more vulnerable. Whatever the reason, he’s certainly not holding himself back now and you’re glad Drayton’s not home because you doubt that a pillow or hand would be enough to muffle the noises that Bubba’s making right now. Then you also hope that grandpa is deaf, although if he’s not this is probably the most action he’s been remotely close to in at least half a century and that thought finally does draw a breathy giggle from you. “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” you coo, and although Bubba looks and sounds like he’s in pain he vigorously nods so you start riding him in a slow, steady rhythm, leaning forward to rest your palms on his chest to run your fingers through his dark curls of hair and play with his nipples. He fills you up perfectly: not so long that he bumps uncomfortably against your cervix, but so deliciously thick that he rubs against every inch of your pussy, stretching your insides to their limits and hitting that sweet spot deep within you.

“Oh, Bubba, oh God,” you whimper as you move faster, hunching over him and wishing you could better see his fat, wet cock disappearing into your cunt with a squelch before sliding back out again, coated in your slick. You can feel his every ridge and vein dragging against your tight inner walls with each stroke, and you can’t ever remember sex being so good. True, it could just be because it’s been so long… but you prefer to think it’s because you and Bubba were made for each other. You wish that he would reach up to caress your breasts, but he’s still gripping your thighs so tightly that it almost hurts. He’s clearly hanging on for dear life, so you decide not to ask him to multitask right at the moment. And regardless of what his hands are doing, you’re so close again already, so achingly close… but Bubba is closer. You pay attention to his face, his movements and the noises he’s making, and when you can tell that he’s right on the edge you quickly lift yourself up till he slips out and immediately start jerking him off with your hands even faster so he won’t lose momentum. You care for him a great deal, but IUD’s aren’t 100% fail-proof and you’re not quite ready to start the next generation of Sawyers. Within seconds Bubba goes stiff and bellows like a dying bull as his thick, white cum shoots out in heavy ropes, splattering across your stomach and then dribbling down your abdomen and into your pubic hair. A few powerful spurts even land on your breasts, and as his twitching slows you swipe some of it up with your fingers and he watches and whimpers as you suck them clean.

“Did you like that, honey? Was is good for you?” You bend forward to rest more of your body against him and pepper little kisses all over his damp, flushed face - fortunately he’s not quite as sweaty as he often is thanks to the improved air circulation in the room from the fan. He’s still panting too hard to really speak, so instead he nods and wraps his big arms around you and hugs you closer, turning his head so he can pant against your hair while he continues to recover. You feel his cum smearing between your bodies - there’s always so much of it - and you rest one hand on his heaving chest and bring your other up to play with his hair the way he loves. At last he mumbles a few _“uh-huhs”_ into your hair and squeezes his arms more tightly around you. “I liked it too. I loved it. You felt so good inside of me, you did such a great job.”He pulls his head away from your hair to meet your eyes at that, then starts patting your back with his hands and making concerned little noises. It takes you a moment to figure out what he’s trying to say, but he’s touching you so carefully that it gives you the clue you need: “You did such a great job staying still and being gentle for me, honey, thank you. You’re so sexy _and_ such a gentleman, I’m so lucky I’m your girl. You didn’t hurt me at all, it felt sooo good and I can’t wait to do it again when you’re ready.”Bubba looks equal parts lovestruck and lustful at your words, and now that you’re not distracted by having his dick in you you can’t stop admiring his face. Sure, you got to look at it all day yesterday while shopping, but seeing it during and immediately after sex is something else entirely. Somehow his keeping it secret for so long has turned it into his sexiest feature. You trail your fingertips along his sideburns and jaw, push the loose curls of his hair off of his sweaty forehead and stroke your thumb against the corner of his mouth and along his plump lower lip. He seems flustered by the way you’re touching and gazing at him, and he rubs your back a little more firmly as he lifts his head up to meet you for a deep, passionate kiss.

You keep holding and kissing and caressing one another everywhere you can reach, and before long you start to feel him getting hard beneath you. “Ready to go again?” you ask with a smile, and Bubba grins back and gives your ass a little squeeze with both hands. You kiss him once more and then scoot down his body till you can lick and suck on his cock, cleaning up any lingering semen and getting him hard enough to penetrate you. You’ve been waiting patiently to pick up where you left off and no further foreplay is needed on your part, so as soon as he’s most of the way there you guide him back inside of your still-soaking pussy with a moan from you both. He slips in easily all the way to the base, and your slick walls hug his rapidly-stiffening flesh as he squirms beneath you, his hands going back to their default position on your thighs and your own to his chest. “Fuck, Bubba, you feel so good…” you sigh as you start rolling your hips, and he babbles something that might mean the same. You’re still so worked-up that it doesn’t take you long to get back to where you were right before he finished, and soon you’re leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs for support while bouncing up and down on his cock at a quick, relentless pace. The mattress springs squeak and groan just as noisily as you imagined they would and it almost makes you laugh - if you were in an apartment right now your neighbors would no doubt be pounding against the wall and yelling at you to shut up. Suddenly you imagine Drayton doing the same when he inevitably finds out about you and Bubba, and then you actually _do_ laugh. Bubba lets out a somewhat strained, breathy laugh as well despite not knowing what you’re thinking - he just likes it when you laugh and he’s clearly having a good time himself right now, too.He’s staying just as still as he did the first time and has managed to unlatch his grip on your thighs and is stroking them instead, grunting with each bounce, his jaw slack and his eyes locked on where you’re joined. “We look so good together, don’t we baby?” you gasp, and he squawks and squeals and vigorously nods. His hands are edging closer and closer to your crotch and he looks like he desperately wants to touch, and you can see no good reason to deny him that. “Touch my clit, honey, make me come, please…”The words have barely left your lips before he obeys, one big hand spanning your belly as he rubs his thumb against your clit like you’ve taught him to do when he eats you out or fingers you. His other hand goes against your labia close enough that he can feel himself sliding into you without getting in the way, and he’s drooling and licking his teeth while he stares and you can’t remember when he blinked last. He looks like he wishes he could do everything to you all at once, but that’s really not necessary - you’re doing just fine with what he’s giving you. More than fine, actually.

“Bubba, oooh, God you’re gonna make me come, baby, keep doing that, please, just like that,” you whimper, bouncing faster and gripping his thighs tightly. Your own thighs are going to be sore as hell after doing all these squats, but you couldn’t possibly care less. Bubba’s panting just as harshly as you are by now, circling and pressing his thumb against your hard little nub even faster, and oh God, you hope he can hold out until you finish… and he does. Before your eyes scrunch shut and your orgasm hits you catch one last glimpse of his beautiful face as he looks up to meet your gaze, and the expression of awe and rapture that he’s wearing is both the sexiest and most adorable thing you’ve ever seen… and then everything goes black as you come hard on his dick. This is the moment you’ve been trying to condition him for and he performs admirably, staying still save for his thumb against your clit and letting you use him for your pleasure as you shudder and jerk and clench around his cock, your hoarse cries and his high-pitched squeals drowning out the hum of the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I had a helluva good time writing that, and I hope y'all enjoyed it, too! :D Let's all raise a glass to Bubba for finally making it to home base 21 chapters in, LOL! 🍺


	22. Chapter 22

You grab Bubba’s hands and move them away when the stimulation becomes too much. The breeze of the fan against your sweaty back feels good, but his body against your front feels better and after you compose yourself a little you raise up off of his still-hard cock and scoot forward to drape yourself over his stomach and chest. “That was so good, baby,” you murmur against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. You can feel his erection against your inner thigh and he wiggles a bit, trying to subtly rub himself against your skin or maybe even slip back inside of you. But subtlety is not one of Bubba’s strong suits and his barely-contained desperation brings a slightly-naughty smile to your lips. Later it might be fun to tease him just a little, to draw out the pleasure and keep him on edge, but you’re not so cruel as to make him wait for long during his first time.

“I think it’s your turn to be in charge now, don’t you agree?” you say sweetly as you lift your head up to meet his eyes, and he looks half scared and half excited, like he desperately wants to do whatever it is you’re asking of him but doesn’t know how to proceed. So you clarify: “Let’s try it with you on top now. Just roll over till I’m underneath you, and I’ll wrap my legs around your waist so you can get inside me again. Sound good?” Bubba eagerly nods and you feel him start to shift, then he freezes again when you add: “Just please don’t squish me, you big, strong, sexy man, you.” you tease with a little wink, and though you intended it in a playful way Bubba looks deadly serious as he nods. You hope he didn’t take your comment as a jab about his weight, but judging by the string of reassuring-sounding gibberish he’s babbling you suspect it’s more likely that he just doesn’t want to hurt you. He rolls over until you’re beneath him, and though his motions are graceless to the point of being downright clumsy he manages not to squish you as requested. It takes some adjusting for him to figure out how to position himself, but at last you get him in the right spot and wrap your legs around his thick waist as best you can, pulling him towards you. You reach down between your bodies to spread yourself open and guide his cock back inside of your soft, soaking pussy. He groans and you can’t help but whimper softly as he slips in to the hilt, but after that point he stays still - despite his obvious need, he’s waiting for instructions again. Ironic how the least-experienced, least-socialized man you’ve ever been with is turning out to be the most considerate. You slide your arms over his broad shoulders and give him a reassuring smile. “Go ahead and do what feels best to you, honey, move how it makes you feel good, I’ll tell you if I need you to stop. Just try to remember to pull out before you finish, okay? You can come on me anywhere else you want, like here or here.” You point to your stomach and breasts, then to try make it feel like not having him finish inside of you isn’t a loss: “I love seeing all that cum, you’re so sexy and virile…” you say in your most seductive voice, then realize that it’s very probable he doesn’t know what the world _“virile”_ means so you rephrase it: “So manly and strong, I love it. Now come on, honeybear, show me what you like.”You lightly prod his butt with your heels as if you were spurring on a particularly skittish horse, encouraging him to move. He whines and leans down to give you a brief kiss, then makes one shallow, tentative thrust. He still seems unsure of himself for some reason, but your next words have an immediate effect: “Make love to me, Bubba, please.”

You’re not sure if it was the word _“love”_ that did it - God only knows how often he’s heard that word related to him in any way whatsoever - but that completely infatuated expression settles over his face again and he shifts his weight onto his elbows so he can gently stroke your hair with his hands on either side of your head. He seems to be radiating every sweet emotion in existence all at once: devotion, gratitude, adoration, and total and utter trust… and it’s right at that moment you realize that his feelings go way beyond just a crush with a huge heaping of lust on the side: he’s actually in love with you. You feel a twinge in your chest - you’ve had plenty of boyfriends in the past, but none who seemed to care for you as deeply as Bubba does. You know for a fact that he would kill for you, of course, but suddenly you also suspect that he would die for you as well. It’s too overwhelming to think about, and fortunately for you he starts moving so you can focus on your body instead of your mind. He begins with slow, deep thrusts, moving with a gentleness that belies his size and strength. He’s somewhat disjointed and unfocused at first, but eventually he finds a more smooth and steady rhythm. You study his face as you let him use you for his pleasure this time, stroking your fingertips feather-light across the warm skin of his shoulders and teasing the hair at the nape of his neck, occasionally squeezing your muscles around his cock as he pumps in and out. He whines with every squeeze and starts moving faster, resting on his forearms and cradling your head between his hands, his soft stomach rubbing against yours and his balls slapping lightly against your ass with each gentle plunge and retreat. He whimpers and grunts as his movements get faster and more shallow and you meet his every thrust, gazing into one another’s eyes. His expression is so open that it feels like you’re looking right into his very soul, and it’s almost too intense for you to handle.

You don’t have it in you for a third orgasm anytime soon, but you’re very much enjoying watching him in such ecstasy and it still feels nice to have him inside of you. “Bubba… you feel so good,” you encourage him, and he moans and drops his head to give you a slightly-sloppy but unmistakably-loving kiss. He becomes clumsier and rougher the closer he gets to orgasm, like a big, overexcited puppy who’s learning to walk on ice for the very first time. God, he’s adorable, and sexy as well. Your whole body is shoved up towards the head of the sofa-bed with each of his powerful thrusts, and thinking about how helpless you are beneath him sends a shiver through you - though not in a bad way. If he wanted to hurt you he easily could, but he doesn’t. And if he’d wanted to rape you back when you first woke up his captive there wouldn’t have been a damn thing you could have done to stop it. But he didn’t. Instead he gave you jewelry and flowers and shy little looks, then he gave you his body and then his face… and now apparently his heart as well.

He closes his eyes as pleasure overtakes him, panting and gasping and moving faster and more shallowly still. Knowing how forgetful he can be when distracted plus the fact that he’s completely new to this, it’s pretty likely he’ll forget to pull out so when you suspect that he’s close you gently remind him: “Let me see all that cum, baby, please, let me feel it on my skin… let me see how good you feel.”His eyes scrunch shut even tighter and he makes noises somewhere between moans and whines with his version of your name mixed in. He shoves his cock deep into your cunt two more times, then after three last quick, shallow thrusts pulls out completely and reaches down with one hand to jerk himself off to completion. Within two seconds you feel his hot cum landing all over your thigh as he bellows and squeals and you coo more sweet words of encouragement. When he finishes he collapses on top of you - fortunately not long enough to crush you too badly - before rolling over beside you. Bubba gathers you up in his trembling arms and you can practically feel the oxytocin seeping from every pore in his body as he holds you like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver.

 

“How you doin’, hon?” you ask after awhile. Good as it feels to have him wrapped around you so tightly, you’re starting to roast a bit from his overwhelming body heat and the temperature of the room in general. Bubba pulls his face away from where he was nuzzling into your hair and babbles something you wish more than anything that you could understand, but he’s nodding and wearing an expression of pure bliss so you get the general idea. In fact, his expression goes beyond bliss and right into reverent adoration, and your heart twinges again when you realize that he looks like he’s on the verge of crying. His lovely brown eyes are dark with his pupils blown wide, and shiny and wet with emotion that he doesn’t seem to be trying to hold back. You’ve never had a man tear up after sex, but Bubba appears to worship the ground you walk on. It’s almost too much pressure - what if you disappoint him somehow someday? But you shake your self-doubt out of your mind and stroke his stubbly jaw with your fingertips and give him a tender kiss. You have no way of knowing all that the future may hold, but you _do_ know that you’ll keep doing your damndest to never let him down. “I’m doing wonderful. How about we rest for a little bit?” you murmur, and he nods and clucks softly. He closes his eyes but doesn’t stop cuddling you despite the heat, so you decide to ignore the way he feels like a damp, hairy radiator and go ahead and let him keep holding you. You close your own eyes as well and shift till you’re as comfy as possible, then drift into a soft, dreamlike state. Bubba, on the other hand, instantly falls asleep so hard that he feels like one of those dead bodies he butchers. It’s super cute - especially since he’s not snoring - and you can’t help but smile as you doze off for you don’t know how long.

 

After minutes or possibly hours, you lazily open your eyes once again. Bubba’s still out cold and you gaze up at one of the many bone-and-string mobiles dangling from the ceiling, listening to the drone of the fan and his pet hen tiredly cluck from time to time. It’s miserable and hot like most summers in Texas, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. You’re not sure how long you’ve been napping, but decide it would be a good idea to wake Bubba up so your sleep schedules don’t get thrown off too badly. You start slowly wiggling against him, but he’s such a heavy sleeper that he doesn’t respond so you have to get a bit more aggressive with your touch. “Rise and shine, honeybear,” you smile when he finally begins to stir, and you’re greeted with a deep, contented sigh and happy little mumble. It doesn’t take him long to wake up completely, and soon he’s patting and rubbing his big hands all over you and chattering pleasantly in-between kisses while you comb your fingers through his chest hair. Your pussy is aching from being stretched by his girth, but it’s a pleasant sort of ache… the ache one gets from exercising muscles that have been inactive for far too long. But you’re pretty sure that your streak of vaginal inactivity has come to an end for a good long while, because Bubba’s getting hard again already. He’s absolutely insatiable - this man is going to kill you, but not with a sledgehammer or chainsaw. Much as you wish you could indulge him again, you’re already going to be sore for awhile so you’ll get him off a different way. “I’m all tapped out, baby, I can’t take any more. You’re too good, you’ve worn me right out.” you grin, and he gives you a bashful little smile. “But it looks like you’re not quite worn out yet, so let’s see what we can do about that, hmm?”His bashful smile turns into a wide, toothy grin, and he immediately obeys when you instruct him to lay flat on his back. You lean over to give him a deep, passionate kiss, then scoot your way down his body, softly kissing and sucking little hickeys into his skin, marking him as your own - though nowhere that isn’t covered by his clothing. You don’t feel like having to explain to Drayton how Bubba acquired hickeys. You gently pinch his nipples between your teeth and he squeals, rubbing and patting his hands against your shoulders and hair as you move even lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his soft, hairy stomach and making him giggle and squirm when you wiggle your tongue around and into his bellybutton. His cock is standing at full attention now, but you bypass it and instead kiss over his hipbone and down his thigh. He whines a bit desperately and wiggles against the sheets, and you smile against his skin. You reach the thick, raised band of scar tissue that spans the front of his right thigh and run your tongue lightly along it, soothing that hurt he sustained long ago. You still don’t know how he got it, but it seems likely that a victim managed to fight back somehow. The part of you that still values the rules of society hopes that person got away, but the part of you that values this strange little life you’ve built with your new friend and lover wishes that they hadn’t hurt him while doing so.

You push that thought out of your mind with one more kiss against the old wound, then at last work your way up to where he wants you. You mouth at his cock and cradle his still-heavy balls in your hand, cupping and rolling them gently and testing their weight, then decide to try something: Bubba has been completely receptive to whatever you’ve wanted to do so far, and considering how he has no qualms about including your asshole when his fingers or face are between your legs you suspect that he won’t mind if you do the same for him. He doesn’t seem to intentionally focus on you there, he just doesn’t avoid it. He’s never been taught to avoid it, and he’s also never been taught that men shouldn’t derive pleasure from being penetrated or even just touched there. Which is complete nonsense, in your opinion, but only one man you’d ever been with was open to trying it. But it’s clear that Bubba will do anything and everything you ask of him, though you’d never abuse that power by asking him to do anything that you aren’t reasonably certain he’ll enjoy. “Would you please bend your knees and spread your legs a bit for me, honey?”Bubba doesn’t hesitate before doing as you request, laying open and vulnerable to you as you scoot in-between his thighs. Oh, how you wish you still had your strap-on so you could fuck him just as tenderly as he fucked you… but God only knows how far you’d have to drive out of this hillbilly town before you could acquire something like that - and more importantly, God only knows how you could keep that purchase secret from Drayton unless he let you make the trip on your own. Thinking about Drayton spoils the mood so you quickly focus back on the man in front of you, supine and shivering and waiting in anticipation for whatever you have in store for him.

“This might feel a little bit weird at first, but I think you might like it. But if you don’t like it just tell me okay? I promise it’s alright if you want to stop.”Bubba nods and licks his teeth, and though he looks a tiny bit nervous he mostly looks burningly curious about what you’re going to do. You give him a reassuring smile and a sweet little kiss against his knee, then bring one hand between your own legs and into your pussy to generously coat all five of your fingers in slickness before gently rubbing them against his tight, puckered opening. He jerks a bit but doesn’t pull away or clamp his legs shut, and his breathing speeds up as you resume pumping his cock while continuing to rub against his hole, spreading lubricant and getting him used to the sensation. “Just relax Bubba, I’ll take care of you,” you murmur your oft-repeated phrase, and like always he responds to your words and you can feel his legs on either side of you get significantly less tense. You ease your pinky finger slowly inside of him and he whimpers and gasps, but you’re observing him carefully and you’re certain that the noises he’s making aren’t noises of discomfort or displeasure - quite the contrary, in fact. “Is this okay?” you ask anyway, just to be sure, and he manages a breathy _“uh-huh”_. You smile and push oh-so-slowly past his tight ring of muscle, stroking in and out while continuing to pleasure his cock and balls with your other hand as he starts panting. After a moment you withdraw your pinky and he moans in what sounds like disappointment, but then he moans in pleasure again when you slide your slippery index finger inside him instead. You lick and suck on his dick and keep caressing his balls with your hand that’s not busy with his ass, gently pressing your finger in deeper and searching for that chestnut-sized gland that should hopefully give him what you’ve been told is pretty intense pleasure. Indeed, Bubba squeals like a piglet with its tail on fire when you find it, clenching his muscles around your finger as you rub softly against its smooth surface. You bring your mouth away from his cock long enough to ask, “Do you like this, honey? Does it feel good?”He doesn’t answer you beyond a high-pitched, quavering whine and several erratic nods, but that’s enough to let you know he’s in ecstasy.

He doesn’t last long at all, and after only a few moments of you gently massaging that pleasurable little gland deep inside of him his cum shoots out like a rocket, taking you off guard and streaking across your face and hair as a result. This might be the hardest he’s come so far, and you watch riveted as his whole body tenses till he’s practically arching right off of the mattress and he lets out a scream very similar to the screams he made when he thought you were leaving him. It’s primal and raw and completely unrestrained, and it’s the sexiest goddamn thing you have ever witnessed in your entire life. You’ve never been super self-conscious during sex, but him completely losing himself and totally surrendering to pleasure every time gives you permission to do it as well - you don’t think you’ve ever been quite as vocal yourself as you are with him. He’s the most liberating partner you’ve ever had the good fortune to bed.

 

Well, that little experiment certainly seems to have been a success. He’s still panting like he’s just run for miles at top speed as he starts to come down, and he trembles and whines as your hand slows against his softening cock and you gently slip your finger back out of him. Hopefully you’ve finally worn him out enough to take a much, much longer break. You wipe his semen off of your forehead as you move up the mattress to lay beside him - thankfully none of it hit you in the eyes. You’re absolutely covered in it, from your face to your torso to your thigh, and you’re amazed at how much he’s able to produce in such a short time. At last he manages to open his eyes once more, his expression the epitome of dazed and overwhelmed. You can’t blame him - the intensity of his orgasm surprised you as well, especially since he already had two not long ago. He starts to blush harder when he sees your face, still painted with his cum, and he reaches out one unsteady hand to smear a thick glob of it across your cheekbone with his thumb. You grasp his hand and bring it to your lips to suck that thumb clean, and though he looks utterly exhausted you still see a spark of lust flash in his dark brown eyes. “I think this is my favorite makeup,” you say mischievously as his other hand reaches out to wipe the cum off of your chin.

“Pretty,” he says a bit shyly, the lust in his eyes melting into reverent adoration again as he starts stroking your hair. You’re not sure if he just means in general or if he’s particularly taken with seeing his cum on your face, but he said it just as sweetly as he always does so it doesn’t really matter either way.

“Thank you, honey. You make me feel so pretty,” you say sincerely as you lean your face into his touch. “Did I make you feel good just now?”

He nods as expected, but then his brow furrows a bit and it looks like he’s concentrating hard on something despite - or perhaps because of - his tiredness. You wait patiently for whatever he’s thinking about to be revealed - it’s most likely nothing bad since he’s not making agitated noises or gestures - and then you’re completely shocked when he opens his mouth and utters a single syllable:

“G-good.”

He stuttered a bit, but the word was unmistakable and you’re absolutely delighted. “Bubba!” you squeal happily and throw your arms around him as best you can while laying side-by-side, and he squeals happily in return and hugs you back. “That’s wonderful baby, I’m so glad!”You kiss him all over his face and ruffle his hair, and he giggles and repeats his new word several more times and with more confidence until the stutter is gone. While you’d still like to get your hands on some books about speech therapy, Bubba appears to be a promising student already.

After you’ve thoroughly lavished him with kisses you finally pull back to meet his eyes, and the pride on his face makes your heart swell with warmth. You’re proud of him, too. “C’mon honeybun, what do you think about taking a bath with all our nice new soaps and stuff now? I think tonight definitely deserves getting all cleaned up and wearing our fancy new clothes, do you agree?”

He looks pretty tired and you hope he won’t fall asleep in the tub, but he seems to like his new pet name and perks up at the talk of trying out your new beauty products and grins and nods. “Uh-huh! Good.”

“Wonderful,” you beam proudly at him, and with one last kiss on his lips you both climb off of the sofa-bed and walk hand-in-hand towards the bathroom.


	23. Chapter 23

Bubba watches with all of the excitement of a child on Christmas morning as he pours the cap full of bubble bath solution under the running faucet as you’ve instructed, and when the water immediately begins foaming into sweet-smelling bubbles he grins and squeals and slaps the rim of the tub in glee.

“Pretty fun, huh?” you grin back. His innocent wonder at the simplest things is a joy to be around. For a skin-wearing cannibal, he’s so wholesome and pure. While he watches the tub you collect the various shampoos, body washes, shaving cream and razors. You’ve gotten pretty used to being hairy and at this point it doesn’t really bother you, but you’re still looking forward to finally shaving your legs and armpits after nearly an entire year. You highly doubt Bubba cares one way or the other, which is nice, but it will still feel good to do every once in awhile, at least in the summertime. You climb into the tub together and take your usual spots, and like usual Bubba washes your hair for you - although this time it’s one-thousand times better because he’s using the proper products. His blunt fingertips gently massaging the shampoo and conditioner against your scalp feels like absolute heaven, and then it gets even better because now _you_ get to wash _his_ hair in return. Bubba sighs in bliss as you lather up his thick, dark waves and he looks so cute with wet, sudsy hair you can hardly stand it. You then thoroughly wash one another with the lightly-scented, sex-neutral body wash. Fortunately Bubba manages _not_ to get an erection in the bath for once, and for the first time ever you’re glad about it. Judging by the rumbling in your stomach it’s way past lunchtime and you’ve worked up quite an appetite after all the sofa-bed shenanigans.

“I’m gonna shave my legs and armpits real quick,” you explain as you reach for the shaving cream and razor, and Bubba looks puzzled but intrigued, as if he’s never heard of such a thing even though you know for a fact that some of the women he’s butchered had shaved their body hair... but then again, you suppose that he doesn’t seem to pay much attention to them beyond cuts of meat so he’s probably just never thought about it before. “Have you ever shaved anything besides your face?” you ask as you lather up one underarm and scrape the nice, new, sharp blade against your skin. Bubba shakes his head, watching in fascination as you finish up and move on to the other arm. “That makes sense. You’re so fuzzy it’d probably take a whole can of shaving cream and a dozen razors to get the job done.” you chuckle, and he grins bashfully when you add, “But I like my big, strong, furry teddy bear just the way he is.”

Armpits freshly bare, you then lift one leg out of the water and rest it on the edge of the tub so you can start lathering it up. Bubba looks so interested that it gives you an idea: “Would you please help me, honey?” you say sweetly, holding the can of shaving cream out to him and he babbles and nods and reaches out to take it. He goes a little bit overboard, but that’s alright - you bought several cans, after all. You run the blade along your thigh and knee, but then hand it to him to shave your shin and calf. He can clearly handle sharp objects so you trust that he won’t slice your leg up, and you recline against your side of the tub as he carefully slides the razor against your skin with all the precision of a surgeon. He squawks and clucks the whole time in that motherly tone he sometimes gets, running his palm all over your leg to make sure he’s done a thorough job. If you weren’t so tired and hungry it would turn you on, but as it is you’re just enjoying being pampered by him - and clearly he loves doing it. The second leg follows same as the first, and Bubba can’t stop staring at nor keep his hands off of your newly smooth skin for a solid minute until you finally say: “Are you gonna shave your beard?”That snaps him out of it and he pries his gaze away from your leg and nods.

“Uh-huh,” he confirms, reaching for the can of shaving cream and a new razor, then surprises you a little by handing them to you. He’s inviting you to groom him in return.

“Are you sure, baby? I don’t wanna mess up your sideburns.” you ask warily, but he just smiles and babbles something that sounds very encouraging, like he has the utmost confidence in you. _No pressure_ , you think to yourself as you squirt a dollop of cream into your palm, then spread it all over where his beard is trying its damndest to grow in. You’ve never been so careful in your whole life as you drag the razor slowly across his skin, starting with his neck - at least you know that all of the hair there is fair game. Then you move up the side of his jaw beneath where you hope his sideburn comes to an end, relying on memory and feel as you clean up the edges. Bubba turns his head slightly so you can reach the other side, and you wince after he splashes water on his face and scrubs the remnants of hair and shaving cream away - unfortunately your sideburn-shaping skills require much more practice, because they’re more than just a little bit lopsided. “Whoops, they’re not quite even. Sorry about that.” you say sheepishly, but Bubba only grins when he reaches up to feel. Then he shrugs his massive shoulders and leans in to kiss you right on the tip of your nose. Good Lord, how can he be so sweet?

Finally you drain the tub and refill it without the bubbles to get completely rinsed off, then after toweling one another dry you guide Bubba through his new post-bathing regimen of aftershave and deodorant. He already smells amazing and sexy all on his own after a bath, but now with the little masculine touch of those two extra products he’s even _more_ irresistible. You comb your hair and put on some more feminine-scented deodorant, and Bubba watches curiously as you smear lotion all over your newly shaved legs. Once he gets the gist of what you’re doing he squawks and gestures towards the lotion, asking to finish the job for you. You feel like a medieval princess with a personal handmaiden the way he’s tending to you, but as long as he likes doing it you’re certainly not going to complain.

 

“Do you want to tell Drayton your new word when he gets home?” you ask while you and Bubba fix lunch. Hopefully grandpa hasn’t wasted away into nothing from having to wait longer for his meal. Bubba nods excitedly, and oh Lord, you hope his brother won’t be a jerk or otherwise discouraging somehow. Drayton seems quite content to keep Bubba’s self-esteem thoroughly trampled and appears resistant to any attempts at boosting his little brother’s confidence. You figure he’s probably afraid that if Bubba wises up to the fact that he’s considerably bigger and stronger he might be less obedient, but you’re positive that will never happen. Bubba is a simple soul, he needs someone to latch onto. Someone to guide him. And as far as you know, that person has always been Drayton. And although now that role can fall to you rather than to his abusive older brother, it seems likely that Bubba will never be able to completely disregard Drayton’s wishes. His conditioning has been too thorough and too long-standing, and he values family too strongly.

You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed you’ve never imagined what it would be like to take him away from this place… to run off together out from beneath Drayton’s thumb and make a sweet little life, just you and him. One without the murder and cannibalism and crushing poverty - assuming you could find another decent-paying job, at least. But despite his fucked-up home life, you would never ask Bubba to leave with you. It just wouldn’t be right. You can’t imagine he would be happy to do it, and you don’t want to put him in the position where he feels like he has to choose. Asking him to leave behind his beloved grandfather who depends on him would be just plain cruel to them both, so like always you shove the thought away into the trashcan of your mind where it belongs and instead head upstairs to take care of that old man and enjoy your lunch.

 

After grandpa is tended to, you and Bubba go outside to tend to the chickens - they’ve also had to wait longer than usual for their meal, and if chickens can be angry you’re pretty sure they are right now. You do a little weeding in the garden as the afternoon whiles away into evening, staying in the shade as much as possible and being careful not to get too dirty. A little bit before Drayton’s due home from work you head back inside to get fancied up for dinner: Bubba puts on his new boots, tie and jacket to go along with his new shirt and pants, then dons his pretty girl mask and several spangly bracelets. “You look so good, Bubba. Very pretty.” you smile, peering at him in his little hand mirror as you add the finishing touches to your makeup. You’ve put on your new skirt and short-sleeved shirt along with a truly beautiful gold necklace and a pair of big, glittery earrings _“donated”_ by a relatively recent victim. As you slip on your new sandals you’re suddenly wishing you’d thought to purchase some nail polish when you were out shopping - something tells you Bubba would enjoy that. It’s hard to see because of this particular mask, but he smiles and pets your hair while babbling in a complimentary tone with three of his five words intermixed: _“good”_ , _“pretty”_ and your name. Something tells you you’re going to be hearing that first word a lot for awhile.

At last you hear the rumble of the truck coming to a stop in the driveway and after hooking up your leash to Bubba’s belt you both head out to the porch to greet Drayton. “Ask us how our day was!” you say excitedly before he even makes it all the way up the front steps, and his expression suddenly turns suspicious. He must think you’re setting him up for some sort of joke, though that couldn’t be farther from the truth this time.

“Why?” he says skeptically.

“Just do it! Ask us how our day was!”

He squints at you for a few more seconds, then seems to decide that you probably won’t quit harassing him until he does it. “Alright, how was your day?”

“Tell him, Bubba!” you grin, lightly jabbing his arm with your elbow.

“Good!” Bubba declares, standing up just a little bit taller.

Drayton’s eyebrows jump in surprise. You’re bracing yourself for him to say something shitty like usual, but happily he looks impressed instead. “Well I’ll be damned! You ain’t learned a new word since I don’t even know when. I reckon prolly not since yer balls dropped.”

You’re tempted to joke that you can confirm that Bubba’s balls have indeed dropped, but of course hold your tongue and just laugh happily instead, glad that the response was a positive one. “Isn’t that great? He did it all on his own. We thought that’s worth celebrating.” _Well, that and Bubba finally losing his virginity_ , you think to yourself.

Drayton scoots past you both and into the house, and you and Bubba follow along behind him. “Is that why you look like a pair o’ two-bit showgirls?” he sneers, but it’s not in a mean way. You’ve come to recognize the difference between his playful teasing and true insults by now.

“Yup! You should celebrate with us, I’m sure if you ask nicely Bubba will loan you some jewelry, too.” you snicker, and Bubba titters gleefully.

Drayton gives you an exasperated look, though the amusement is still lurking below the surface. “I don’t think so. I ain’t no silly sonufabitch like this damn fool,” he says while looking at Bubba, then he looks to you: “And _you_ … well, I don’t even know _what_ to call you.” he concludes, pulling some sausages out of the fridge to start dinner. Much as you and Drayton disagree on things, he hasn’t called you a bitch or anything equally unpleasant for a long, long time, so you’ve tried to be a bit more civil with your language as well.

“You can call me a silly sonuvabitch too, I don’t mind.” you say cheerfully as you and Bubba start collecting dishes to set the table, and Drayton lets out a long-suffering sigh as he tosses the sausages into one of his new pans.

Once you’re all sitting at the table Drayton says, “I’ll tell ya’ what’s worth celebratin’. The damn gas transport finally came, and just in time for a bunch a longhaired bums in their Volkswagens to fill up their tanks. Weren’t able ta’ snag none of ‘em for dinner, but at least it brought in some cash.” In the back of your mind you just barely think about how messed up it is that he spoke of a thwarted plan to kidnap and murder in such a pleasant tone, but you’re so used to it by now that the thought fades before it’s even fully formed.

“Good!” Bubba says happily as he gently pokes a bit of sausage into grandpa’s toothless mouth with his finger, and Drayton purses his lips and glares at him.

“Now I s’pose we’re gonna have to listen to you yappin’ that same word over n’over till we’re all dead,” he grumbles, but again - he’s clearly not actually mad.

“Just you wait, he’s going to be reciting poetry at the dinner table in no time.” you say proudly, and Drayton snorts:

“Let’s just hope the good Lord strikes me down before that happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last little bit is intended as a nod to Gunnar, who was a poet as well as an author and actor. ♥️
> 
> As always, thank you soooooo much to all you sweet, sweet people who leave me comments and encouragement. It's SO very appreciated and motivating, and I love each and every one of you! *hugs*


	24. Chapter 24

Unfortunately there is lots of work to be done the next day before you and Bubba can get back to more adventures in bed. Drayton brought home more cans of gas the night before since the transport arrived, and bright and early that morning Bubba had to unload them from the truck and stack them in the shed by the generator, then reload the truck with empty cans while Drayton cooked breakfast. Then after the usual garden chores it’s on to probably your least favorite task you’ve witnessed since your time here: the huge metal barrels of trash and butchering waste that the chickens won’t eat are full to the brim, and finally emptying them can’t be put off any longer. It’s a nasty, nasty job, especially this time of year. In the cooler months they are burned under Drayton’s supervision, though he watches from afar to avoid the smell while making his little brother stand closer to stomp out any errant sparks before they cause a fire. Typical. But in the hot, dry months it’s too dangerous to burn, so Bubba has to drag the barrels out to the back of the property and dig a huge pit to bury the waste in. You’ve always appreciated the labor of garbage collectors, but never before have you so keenly missed the convenience of curbside pick-up before living with the Sawyers. The barrels are too heavy for you to move, but you can at least help Bubba dig the pit. It’s completely miserable, but like always, Bubba doesn’t complain.

“Drayton’s sure lucky to have you,” you say, wiping the sweat from your brow. “You do so much work and help so much. He should really appreciate you more.”

Bubba doesn’t seem to know how to respond, he just shrugs and keeps digging. He still can’t quite seem to fully accept compliments sometimes, plus you’re certain that he sees himself as completely subservient to his brother and not deserving of appreciation. He’s no doubt been told all his life that his work is expected as the price he must pay for a _“halfwit like him”_ being taken care of… something he owes his superiors rather than something to be appreciated or valued. While you agree that all members of a family should contribute, that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t show appreciation for and be kind to one another, in your opinion.

“But I bet grandpa appreciates you, and I sure do, too. I’ve never known a man who works so hard for his family. You’re pretty special, Bubba.”

That gets a little bit more of a reaction out of him: another shrug and a bashful little squawk as a slightly pink tinge suffuses his cheeks. He’s maskless at the moment - so far he seems to be spending about fifty percent of his waking hours wearing one, though you’re not sure if he wears one while sleeping since you’re sadly no longer sharing a bed. Once the hole is large enough he tips over one of the barrels to dump the filthy rubbish into the pit, and the ease with which he does it is such a turn-on despite the absolutely foul stench. Each full barrel has to weigh at least two hundred pounds, but that’s nothing to him - he butchers people heavier than that and he carries you - and grandpa, for that matter - around all the time like you weigh nothing at all. Cattle and hogs weigh even more, and while you only know just barely enough about meat processing plants to know there is mechanical assistance for moving large carcasses, you’re certain that he still handled even larger, heavier pieces of meat when he worked there than he does here at home. “You’re so strong, honeybear... so sexy,” you purr as he rights the empty barrel once more, and he blushes harder and squawks even more shyly. “I can’t wait for you to make love to me after we finish this job.” you say in your most seductive voice, and you can practically see his pulse speed up. He tips over the next barrel of garbage so quickly that the whole thing nearly falls into the pit, then he practically tosses it aside before moving on to the third and final one. A less-strong man would probably throw out his back doing this, and though Bubba still has many years of youthful vigor left in him you suddenly think about what will happen when he does finally grow old and slow and more prone to injury. It happens to everyone - if you’re lucky enough to live that long, at least. Who will take care of all these difficult chores when Bubba is too old to do them? And on top of that, what will happen when Drayton finally dies and is no longer bringing home a paycheck? Though knowing him, he’ll probably live even longer than grandpa just out of spite… but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll be able to run the gas station right up until he finally drops dead. Someone will eventually have to take over the business… and unless they kidnap another person who’s smarter than Bubba, the only person who could do it is yourself. It’s the first time you’ve thought this far ahead into the future, and you’re not sure exactly what you’re feeling as images of learning to run the station flash through your mind. Even if that happens, though, it still leaves the problem of needing someone young and strong to take over running the farm once Bubba is too old - or heaven forbid gets sick or injured. The only solutions you can think of are either moving to the city once grandpa and Drayton are gone, kidnapping a young, able-bodied person to force into servitude… or having children. Children who can take over the farm while you and Bubba grow old together.

“Holy shit,” you involuntarily murmur out loud, for the thought is shocking and now you _really_ don’t know how you’re feeling… but you _think_ it’s good. It’s the first time you’ve really seriously thought about the idea of having children at all, let alone with Bubba. You vaguely thought that it might happen someday if you found the right man, but you’d gotten that IUD and insist on your partners pulling out or using condoms for a reason: you’d been focused on your education and building a career more than a home or family, for it always felt wrong to you to not take advantage of those opportunities your foremothers had been denied by a sexist society. But Bubba is all about home and family, and it’s been an eye-opening revelation for you to realize that you like it. Why else would you have stayed? Aside from the occasional murder and conflict with Drayton, it’s peaceful here. Simple and satisfying. You feel like a part of the family yourself by now, and despite the hardships that come along with it, there really isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.

You ponder deeply for another few seconds before you realize that Bubba’s looking at you curiously. He’s probably wondering why you said _“holy shit”_ , so you make something up: “Holy shit, that’s a lot of crap.”You nod towards the disgusting, stinking heap of rotting trash and Bubba nods and babbles in agreement as he starts filling the hole back in with dirt.

 

You’re both sweaty and gross after all that hard work, but you couldn’t care less and can’t wait to have Bubba inside you again… but unfortunately it’s past lunchtime when you finally finish rolling the empty barrels back to where they belong. Feeding and toileting grandpa has never felt so tedious, but once he’s finally taken care of you and Bubba eat a quick, light lunch yourselves before at last retreating to your bone, feather and sofa-bed sanctuary. The fan has been on since early that morning and the room feels fairly comfortable, and it gets even more comfortable once you’re both finally naked. You push the blanket away and he hurries to help, then you lay back against the pillows and get yourself all comfy as he crawls over you on his hands and knees.

“Can we do it with you on top, nice and gently?” you request, and Bubba vigorously nods as he leans down to kiss you. He’s being gentle, but you can feel the excitement thrumming through his entire body and you can’t wait to have him fully unleash all that energy and power. You definitely want to get rougher soon, but you’re still a little sore from having him inside you the other day and you want to be able to really enjoy it. It’s no fun getting your pussy wrecked when you’re already halfway there. Ever the considerate lover despite his eagerness, Bubba licks his fingers and reaches down between your spread legs to slide them through your folds. He’s touching you softly, but his kisses grow more and more frantic and within seconds he’s rubbing his erection against you so fast and hard that you’re worried he might make himself come just from that… but that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. His excitement is arousing to you no matter what the activity, and maybe if he comes once he’ll last longer once he’s inside you… but in the end you decide you don’t want to wait that long.

“I need you inside of me, baby, I’m ready. Just please be gentle, honey.” you murmur against his mouth as you spread your legs wider, and he squeals and nods and babbles reassuring gibberish. You reach down as well to help guide him inside, and you both moan as he fills you up nice and slow. God, that sweet, sweet ache is so good, and you wrap your legs around him and just hold him in place for a moment while you adjust. “Fuck, that’s so good, honey…” you whimper, clutching the strong muscles of his back with both hands.

“Good,” he agrees. He’s breathing heavily already and quivering with pent-up need, but he doesn’t start moving until you tell him to. He’s so sweet, so thoughtful… so obedient. He starts up slow, grinding thrusts at your direction, pushing into you as deep as he can get before pulling nearly all the way out, then pushing back in to the hilt once more. He slips all the way out a few times - you presume accidentally - but after rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit for a few seconds he quickly enters you once more with a grunt. Your cunt is drenched and his copious precum adds to the sweet, slippery friction as you move together, tilting your pelvis up to meet him as he presses you down into the mattress.

“Oooh, yeah, Bubba, just like that… you’re doing such a great job…” you gasp, your bellies rubbing together and his pubic bone grinding against your clit with each thrust as he moves quicker and quicker, and you feel your orgasm just on the horizon… but then you nearly have the soul scared right out of you.

 

“JESUS H. CHRIST ALMIGHTY, WHAT IN THE GODDAMN HELL’ER YOU DOIN’?!” Drayton suddenly shrieks from the doorway. You didn’t even hear him come in, and you and Bubba both jump and yelp in surprise. But although Bubba stops thrusting, he doesn’t move away or even pull out - he seems to be frozen in terror, actually. You, on the other hand, are incredibly, deeply irritated. You’re not an exhibitionist, but there’s no way you’re stopping a hell of a good fuck just for Drayton’s sake. He’s annoying and you couldn’t care less what he thinks. And besides that, Bubba’s blocking you from view so right at this moment you really wouldn’t even care if Drayton stayed there and watched you both finish. It was inevitable that he would find out what was going on, and while you would have preferred him to discover it in a way other than walking in on you and Bubba having sex, it’s too late now.

“Breeding, asshole, isn’t that what you want?” you shout crankily, wrapping your legs more tightly around Bubba’s hips to keep him in place. “Keep going, baby, just ignore him,” you say firmly, and though he looks hesitant he slowly starts up his thrusts again - he’s clearly struggling between obeying you and fearing whatever his brother will say or do next.

Drayton splutters in stunned disbelief for only a moment, then yells, “Bubba! I got a girl in the truck, get out here and take care of it!”

“He’s busy taking care of _me!_ Take care of it yourself, you coward!” you shout even louder, digging your heels into Bubba’s butt to prevent him from doing as his brother says.

Clearly it’s been a long time since Drayton’s encountered this level of resistance to his orders and he stands there swearing in the doorway for several more seconds, but eventually he leaves the room and you smirk to yourself. What was he gonna do about it? Pull his naked brother off of you mid-fuck like Bubba did to that rooster? As if scrawny old Drayton has a chance of physically moving big, beefy Bubba - and if he dared to bring out the walloping stick you’d murder him yourself. He’s probably just jealous that his _“halfwit”_ baby brother is getting laid and he’s not. Well, you don’t _think_ Drayton’s getting laid… you really don’t want to know either way.

Bubba still looks incredibly anxious and he’s barely moving even after Drayton leaves the room, so you try to get his attention back on you. “C’mon honeybear, don’t worry about him, it’ll be okay. I promise.” you reassure him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek, and he relaxes a little. He starts thrusting a bit more, but he’s thrown off his rhythm and has even partially lost his erection - despite your reassurances the sudden and loud interruption by his brother has obviously rattled his nerves, so you decide to help him out. Throwing caution to the wind, you invite him to roll over onto his back so you can ride him instead - and if Drayton sees your bare ass, well, you’re willing to live with that.

It takes a few moments for Bubba to finally stop looking distracted and anxious, but Drayton doesn’t interrupt again and before too long Bubba’s completely hard and focused on you once more. This time he’s able to multitask enough to reach up and fondle your breasts with both hands as you fuck him, then he brings one hand down to where you’re joined - but instead of rubbing your clit like you expect, he slides one finger between his cock and your pussy to coat it in slickness. Then he surprises you completely when he reaches around and starts searching for your asshole - apparently he intends to do to you what you did for him the day before. Bubba of course doesn’t know that you don’t have a prostate - he probably doesn’t even know that _he_ has one - but you’re certainly not opposed to a little stimulation there so you allow him to go ahead. He slowly pushes in up to the knuckle and you gasp - between his thick finger and cock you’ve never felt so full in your life and you moan his name and clutch his hair with both hands as you hunch over him. He whimpers and grunts as you ride him faster, then you bring one hand away from his hair to touch yourself.

“You gonna come soon, baby?” you pant as you rub your clit, and Bubba nods and chokes out a labored _“uh-huh, uh-huh,”_ as he drags his free hand from your breasts to your hip. “Me too,” you moan, closing your eyes, and when Bubba starts up his usual high-pitched, pre-orgasmic squealing you rub yourself faster and lift up till his cock slips out. You quickly jerk him off with your other hand and within seconds you’re both coming together, his semen landing on your hands as you clench and shudder above him and he arches and gasps beneath you. Despite the unpleasant interruption it was still a damn good roll in the sack, and when your shuddering slows you drape yourself forward onto Bubba’s stomach and chest to plant little kisses against his jaw. Bubba wraps one big arm around your back and gropes around for the blanket with his other hand, then pulls it over to cover you despite the heat. You can only imagine he doesn’t want Drayton to see you naked, and his chivalry is sweet… or perhaps it’s just plain old possessiveness. Either way, you like it.

“You doing okay?” you ask him once you can both speak again, and he babbles and nods and hugs you tighter, but when you look up from his chest to meet his eyes you can see that he’s getting nervous again. “Hey, if you’re worried about Drayton, don’t be. I promised you it will be okay, and I meant it. Alright, hon?” you say soothingly as you stroke your fingertips along his sideburns, and he nods and softly squawks. You can tell that he’s really trying to believe you, but the specter of his brother’s anger and that walloping stick are clearly still heavy in his mind. “C’mon honeybear, let’s get dressed and we’ll get everything settled. It’ll be alright, okay?”You give him one more deep, reassuring kiss before rolling off of him, then reach for a nearby rag to clean up a little. Once you're both decent again save for your tousled hair and bit of extra perspiration, you and Bubba go searching for Drayton.

 

You find him in the butchering room, surprisingly wearing his own yellow apron and with a young, redheaded woman splayed face-down across the butchers block. Her shirt is off and blood is dripping from her head and neck into the metal tub below, and Drayton gives you both a furious look when you walk through the door. “I can’t believe I had to see that with my own eyes n’ hear it with my own two ears!” he snarls, angrily stabbing the hunting knife he’s holding into the young woman’s upper back - thankfully she appears to be dead. “What in the goddamn hell’er you thinkin’, you fuckin’ retard coonshit jackass?!” Drayton screams and you wince. You’ve heard him say some pretty mean things to Bubba, but that was particularly harsh and Bubba shrinks back a bit. Before you can respond Drayton continues his rant: “You _wasn’t_ thinkin’, though, was ya’? You was thinkin’ with yer dick, you goddamn halfwit bitch hog fool! I _told_ you and I _told_ you not to let her trick ya, and whadda you do? You let her catch you with yer pants down!”He balls his fists before jabbing one accusing finger in his brothers direction, and Bubba shrinks back even further. “She’s tryin’ ta get you to let her go, you nitwit! Tryin’ ta trick you with them feminine wiles and you fell for it like a big, fat, ugly, retarded idiot! You think she cares ‘bout a stupid lug like you? She don’t like you, she’s jus’ tryin’ ta get you to let her go!”

Finally you can’t stay quiet any longer. “That’s not true,” you say firmly, and squeeze Bubba’s hand tightly with your own. “I am _not_ trying to trick him or escape. How many times do I have to tell you that I like being with him? I would have already left by now if I wanted to, I’ve had plenty of opportunities!”

“What?!” Drayton says, sounding horrified, then he glares at Bubba even more angrily. “You goddamn fool, I should beat yer fat, hairy ass raw but I don’t wanna have to look at it again!” he says nastily, and that’s the last straw.

“Oh no you won’t. Nobody’s touching his ass from here on out except for me. I’m not gonna let you hit him anymore.” you say stonily, and Bubba whimpers as Drayton’s jaw actually drops. “You touch one single hair on his head - _or_ his ass - and we’re gonna have a problem. There’s no reason for you to do it, he doesn’t need to be punished like that. He’s not an animal, and you shouldn’t even treat animals like that anyway. I’m not gonna stand for anyone hitting my man, and if you want to hurt him you’re gonna have to go through me first. And you _know_ that grandpa wouldn’t approve of you hitting a lady.”

You know you’ve struck his Achilles heel with that last jab. For all his faults, Drayton does have a great deal of respect for his elders - he practically seems to worship grandpa, just like Bubba does. He also possesses at least a little bit of that old-fashioned, benign sort of Southern-gentleman sexism - the kind that believes you shouldn’t hit the _“fairer sex”_ \- and you’re not above using it to your advantage. “If you want Bubba to do something or if he makes a mistake just tell him, that’s all you have to do.”Bubba whimpers again and Drayton finally looks like he’s about to retort, but you quickly make another attempt to strike a blow to the only other psychological weakness you know he possesses: the need to be respected. “He listens to you without needing to be hit. Maybe you didn’t know it, but he respects you because you’re his big brother and you take care of him. You’ve taken care of him his whole life, and he really wants you to be proud of him. Even when he makes mistakes always he tries his best, don’t you, honey?”Bubba vigorously nods from his cowering position behind you and though Drayton’s eyelid seems to twitch a bit at you calling his brother _“honey”_ , he stays quiet. “And like I said, I’m not sleeping with him to trick him into letting me go, and I’m not trying to take him away from you, either. I’m sleeping with him because I really care about and am attracted to him.” you continue, and Drayton’s mean, shocked expression is now partially confused and disgusted as well. He just simply can’t seem to wrap his head around the idea that anyone would voluntarily want to be with Bubba, but that’s his problem, not yours. “And I’m not wearing that damn leash anymore because I’m not going anywhere. Bubba and I are happy together, and it would be really great if you could be happy about it, too. Or at least accept the fact that I’m here to stay, and not as his pet or your prisoner. I can work and earn my keep. I can cook and clean and go shopping. I could even help you at the station or get a different job to help bring in money. Either way, I’m staying here.”Drayton opens his mouth again, but you quickly cut him off with one last attempt to appeal to his ego and old-fashioned sensibilities: “But you’re the head of the family, and it would really mean a lot to both me and Bubba if you’d give us your blessing.”

You wrap your other arm around Bubba’s and squeeze his hand even tighter, standing up tall and waiting unflinchingly for Drayton’s response. Bubba’s still cowering and whimpering quietly, and Drayton looks like he just got hit in the head with that sledgehammer sitting on the nearby countertop. He appears so stunned that he’s not even angry anymore, and you watch the range of emotions flash across his twitching face as he tries to process everything you’ve just said. After what feels like a long, long time, he finally speaks up: “You want my blessing?” He sounds somewhere between confused and suspicious, but you don’t detect any anger. Then you realize it sounds like you’re asking for permission to marry his little brother… and your heart starts beating faster when you realize that’s not far off from the truth.

“Yes, please.” you reply, and Bubba manages to nod frantically several times.

“You say you ain’t gonna run away and yer willing to work?” Drayton says, giving you a shrewd, appraising look.

“Yes.”

“You willing ta help with _this_ work?”He picks up the dead woman’s limp arm and points it towards you, all the while looking at you closely.

You gulp, but then find your resolve again. “Yes.”

Your voice doesn’t waver and that response seems to satisfy him. He gives you that big, creepy, grey-toothed grin as he drops the dead woman’s arm once again, then starts taking off his yellow apron. “Well then, no time like the present!” he says cheerfully, and you blink in confusion as he hands it to you… then you grimace a little when you realize he’s expecting you to take over butchering this unfortunate person right here and now. He laughs as you slip your head through the top straps and Bubba quickly helps tie the back. “Don’t look so scared now, I reckon it ain’t near as bad as fuckin’ this sweaty hog!” he chortles, and Bubba squeals and reassuringly pats your shoulder. He seems oblivious to Drayton’s insult, he just walks you over to the butcher block and grabs his own, much-larger apron off its nail. He looks happy and excited, and you’re not sure if it’s because things seem to be working out fine with Drayton or if he’s eager to show you how to butcher… possibly both. He wraps your fingers around the handle of the hunting knife, then guides you in dragging the blade from the top of the woman’s back down to the top of her jeans. You feel slightly sick, but less than you expected, and Bubba squeals encouragingly and pats your shoulder as you remove the knife. Drayton watches as Bubba shows you where to make each cut, then after awhile he says:

“I knew somethin’ was funny with you two. How long’ve you been fornicatin’ under my roof for?”He doesn’t seem mad at all, but then he gives you a sour look when you say sarcastically:

“Wow, fancy word there, Drayton. Where’d you learn that one?”

“Watch yer mouth, Missy. It’s in the Bible, I ain’t no heathen.”

That makes you laugh out loud even as Bubba helps you start peeling off the woman’s skin. Surely Drayton deserves a unique mental disorder named after him for being a cannibal offended by premarital sex. “Well now, let’s see…” you say casually, “We’ve been giving each other handjobs since we were sharing the bed - which we’re gonna start doing again, by the way - and I sucked Bubba’s dick the first time a few - “

But that’s as far as you get, because Drayton holds up his hand and says sharply, “STOP. I don’t need to know th - “, but you cut him off in return:

“But we didn’t actually have _sex_ -sex until just yesterday. And it was _amazing_ , wasn’t it honeybear?”You bat your eyelashes at Bubba in an exaggerated way, and he grins and nods.

“Good!” he squeals happily, and Drayton sighs and massages his temples with his fingertips, as if his head hurts.

“Lord Jesus almighty,” he groans, then moves towards the doorway. “I’m goin’ back to the station and openin’ up again till regular closing time. Just came home early since that girl was easy to get. You two behave yourselves, you hear me? Or I’ll beat _both_ your asses raw, no matter what grandpa says, you understand me?”

“Yes sir!” you snicker, and though your tone is teasing, deep down inside you’re glowing with happiness because being included in Drayton’s standard ass-beating threat makes you feel like an accepted part of the family more than anything else so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that Drayton hits Sally in the movie, but to me it feels more like because his mental illness is momentarily out of control. He keeps slipping in and out between having the sadistic, excited urge to smack her and then comforting her and being disgusted with prolonging her fear and discomfort. But I do feel like when he’s more in his right mind (the part of his mind that enables him to behave himself in public) and not all fired-up from the kidnapping struggle and manic energy of the Hitchhiker that he wouldn’t be super inclined to do that to a woman who isn’t going to end up on the dinner table. Reasonable minds can certainly disagree, though. He’s a complicated personality/brain, that’s for sure.


	25. Chapter 25

There isn’t much time left before Drayton’s due back home after the redheaded woman is finally wrapped up into neat little bundles of butcher paper, but once the job is done you and Bubba remove your aprons and wash your hands before heading outside to tend to the chickens. You realize that you’ve become almost completely desensitized to the occasional murder and cannibalism around you, but you’re still slightly surprised by how easily you cut up another human being. Perhaps it was because the hard part of actually killing her was already done. You’ve heard Drayton say that he doesn’t like killing and you can’t say you blame him, but clearly he is capable of it and you wish he’d man up and take responsibility for his murderous inclinations instead of making Bubba do all of the dirty work.

Once the chickens are fed and watered for the evening, you and Bubba go back to the living room to sit on the bone-adorned sofa for a while. “You know all that stuff Drayton said isn’t true, right? I care about you so much, and I would never, ever trick you. You know that, right?” you ask, squeezing Bubba’s hand and looking into his big, brown eyes. He says _“Uh-huh”_ and nods, and you relax at the sincerity in his expression and tone. “Good. And you’re not ugly or retarded or fat. You’re handsome and sweet and sexy as hell.”

Bubba squawks bashfully and shrugs as he looks down at his lap, and you take his jaw in your hand to gently tilt his face back towards you for a soft little kiss. “I know he’s your brother and you love him, and I’m sure he loves you, too. But he’s a mean old sonuvabitch. Some people just can’t seem to be happy without putting down everyone else around them. I know that’s just how he is and it’s never going to change, but I wish he’d be a bit nicer. You deserve to be treated better.”Bubba shrugs again and babbles something for a few minutes, and you listen intently despite not knowing what he’s saying. It sounds like he might be venting some of his frustration with the way his brother treats him, but it’s in a confused, sad way rather than angry… like he doesn’t understand why Drayton’s so mean and wishes he knew what he could to do to change it. As if Drayton’s bad behavior is in any way a reflection on Bubba, you think grumpily.

Once he goes quiet again you ask, “What was Nubbins like? Was he nicer?”You haven’t spoken much about the late Sawyer brother since your first week of being kidnapped. At first you weren’t interested in discussing it because you couldn’t care less about your captors feelings, but once you grew attached to Bubba you wanted to give him plenty of time to mourn. Plus for a long time you didn’t know how to talk about it anyway. But you hope that by now Bubba will be able to reminisce about his brother fondly, even if a bit wistfully - assuming Nubbins wasn’t an asshole like Drayton, at least. Bubba nods and babbles something that sounds considerably happier than the way he way he was talking about Drayton, then pats you on your knee and stands up from the sofa to shuffle over to a bone-adorned dresser across the room. He pulls a Polaroid photo from one of the drawers and shuffles back over to sit down beside you again. He hands you the picture, and for the first time you get a look at Suspect A before he became a pile of roadkill at the dinner table: he has dark hair like Bubba, but beyond that there isn’t much of a resemblance. He’s wiry and thin and rather squirrelly-looking, and he’s projecting a manic sort of energy even through the photograph. He has what looks like a large, dark, port wine stain birthmark on one side of his face, and he’s holding up what seems to be a dead fox and pointing at it with a wide, crazy grin. Even though he appears even more psychotic than Drayton, at least he also looks like he might have been a fun guy to be around.

“He looks fun. Was he nice?” you ask, and Bubba nods and squeals. “Did he ever hit you?”Bubba nods again, and you’re suddenly confused. “He hit you like Drayton does?”Bubba shakes his head and babbles some casual-sounding gibberish, and now you’re even more confused. You think hard for a moment, trying to make sense of this contradiction, then it dawns on you: he probably means they just roughhoused like so many brothers do. “Did you just wrestle and play and hit each other like that?”Happily Bubba nods, and you can’t help but smile imagining little Bubba and his brother playing together. You can’t imagine it was much of a fair fight, size-wise, but perhaps what Nubbins lacked in physical bulk he made up for with speed or intelligence. “Was he older than you?”Bubba nods again, and after a few more minutes of questioning you learn that Nubbins was two years older than Bubba and that Drayton beat the snot out of him as well. While you don’t approve of physical abuse and you doubt very strongly that Bubba ever needed it, you have to admit that from the tales of Nubbin’s hitchhiking and grave-robbing exploits that it’s possible he may have required a firmer hand growing up. Not that it apparently did any good.

 

You ask Bubba as many yes-or-no questions about his late brother as you can think of, and you’re glad that he seems more happy than depressed during the conversation. “I wish I could have met him,” you say once you’ve run out of things to ask, and Bubba nods and lets out a wistful little sigh. Just then the front door opens and Drayton walks in.

“You two ain’t fornicatin’ in my living room again, are ya’?” he yells from the hallway, and you and Bubba both giggle.

“No, we’re having a perfectly respectable, fully-clothed conversation,” you holler back, so he walks through the doorway to glare at you both.

“Good. If yer grandpa knew about that he’d whoop yer ass raw,” he says to Bubba, “And send you straight to church,” he says to you. Bubba doesn’t laugh, but you do - loudly. The mental pretzels Drayton can twist his demented mind into are pretty impressive.

“Hey, fornication isn’t one of the Ten Commandments, but I’m pretty sure there’s something in there about murder,” you reply, but Drayton just waves his hand dismissively as he walks towards the kitchen.

“It ain’t murder if it’s puttin’ food on the table. And speakin’ of that, get up and get yer grandpa and set the table for dinner.”This time you haven’t put your leash back on, and you start setting the table by yourself as Bubba goes upstairs for grandpa. Drayton watches you closely but doesn’t say anything, then once you all sit down to eat he says, “So. Weren’t much goin’ on at the station this evening so I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said earlier.”You put down your fork and wait for whatever he’s about to say - you’re not sure what he’s getting at yet. Bubba keeps poking little bits of headcheese into grandpa’s mouth, but you can tell that he’s also listening closely. “I’m thinkin’ that if you two want my blessing then you’ve gotta make it nice and proper. Respectable-like.”

There’s only one thing he could possibly mean that you can think of. “You want me and Bubba to get married?”

“Ain’t that what _you_ want, since he’s so sweet and you supposedly like bein’ with him?” he replies, and you realize that he’s right. You can’t imagine a life beyond what you’re building here with Bubba right now - and you _know_ you’ll never find another man who adores you so completely - so if making it official will help keep Drayton off your backs then you can see no reason not to do it. Why not? You’re not planning on going anywhere.

“Yes, it is. I do want to marry him, as long as he wants it, too.” you say with the utmost confidence. Bubba squawks like a hysterical chicken and drops the piece of headcheese he was holding to reach over and pull you right off your chair and onto his lap. He squeals joyfully as he squeezes his big arms around you in an almost-too-tight bear hug, and his utter delight makes you wheeze out an affectionate laugh. “Is that a yes?” you manage to mumble.

“Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” he chirps over and over, then starts peppering kisses all over your head and face.

“Alright, knock it off! I won’t stand for no foolin’ around at the dinner table!” Drayton says loudly, but he’s actually smiling. Bubba gives you one more quick kiss before obeying his brother, placing you gently back in your seat and picking up the headcheese to resume feeding grandpa. But he can’t stop tittering and fidgeting and making happy little squeals, and half of the headcheese ends up falling back onto the table rather than making it into grandpa’s mouth.

“You ready to settle down then, Bubba?” Drayton asks, and you find that choice of words rather amusing since you’re pretty damn sure that Bubba hasn’t exactly been a globe-trotting womanizer thus far.

“Uh-huh!” Bubba chirps again.

“And you ready to make a respectable man outta my brother?” Drayton asks you.

“Yes, I am.”

“Well alright then. As long as you stay in line and do right by the family, you got my blessing.”

“Thank you.” you say sincerely and Bubba nods and squeals a few more _“uh-huhs”_. He looks like he just might explode from happiness and excitement, and you’re feeling quite giddy yourself.

Drayton nods, looking rather puffed-up and proud of himself, no doubt pleased by facilitating the upholding of the Sawyer family honor. He turns to grandpa and says: “You hear that, grandpa? Ol’ Bubba’s gettin’ hitched. Who’da ever thunk this dumb, fat nitwit would land a lady, let alone such a pretty one? If Nubbins was here he’d be laughin’ his ass off.”

Bubba doesn’t seem to care that he’s just been called a dumb, fat nitwit, he just nods in agreement and keeps happily squealing. It’s hard for you to imagine a big Southern wedding in this situation - to the best of your knowledge the Sawyers don’t have any friends or other extended family - so you ask, “Are we just going to go to the courthouse?”

Drayton shakes his head and says proudly,“We don’t need no gov’nment meddling or worthless papers - hell, Bubba don’t even got a birth certificate, he was born right here at home. The Sawyers don’t need no hospitals. Don’t need no church, neither, we’ll just do it right here with the family Bible. Soon as I find it, anyway…”

It’s difficult for you to believe the Sawyers are a God-fearing family, but you suppose it _is_ Texas, after all. Perhaps it’s more about tradition than actual religious conviction. Or perhaps things only started going morally haywire after grandma died, and then went off the rails completely after all of the men besides Drayton lost their jobs. Who knows? What doesn’t surprise you, however, is the family Bible being lost somewhere in the household mess. “Well, good luck with that,” you say cheerfully, “In the meantime, Bubba and I will be sharing the sofa-bed again and fornicating until you find it.”

Drayton doesn’t seem too pleased with that, but apparently he decides it isn’t a battle worth fighting and doesn’t argue. It’s so, so nice to be able to hold Bubba’s hand and rest your head on his shoulder while the three of you listen to the radio after dinner, humming along with the dulcet tones of Patsy Cline and hearing the cicadas singing outside. It’s so romantic that if Drayton wasn’t there you would ask Bubba to dance with you, and you smile to yourself wondering if he’d be any good at it. You resolve to find out someday soon.

Once Drayton finally retires to his room, you and your soon-to-be husband crawl into the sofa-bed together at long last. You’re a little surprised that Bubba doesn’t initiate sex as soon as you’re alone - he just seems to want to cuddle, and you’re fine with that as well. You’re pretty tired from this mornings chores, your afternoon roll in the sack, butchering that woman and dealing with Drayton… and while it didn’t bother _you_ at all, Bubba is no-doubt still recovering from his near heart attack after his brother walked in on you fucking. And you’re _both_ no-doubt still recovering from the excitement of your sudden engagement. He pulls you on top of him and hugs you close, sighing blissfully into your hair and rubbing his hands along your back, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing on earth. You fall asleep right there, draped across his stomach and chest and you sleep more soundly than you have in a long time, comforted by his warmth and scent and deep, steady breathing, safe in the knowledge that you can sleep as long as you want without fear of Drayton discovering you together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP, Nubbins. I love imagining how he would react to Bubba getting laid/married, LOL!


	26. Chapter 26

The next day is mercifully a bit less hot than it’s been for awhile, so after breakfast and morning chores you and Bubba head outside with a large metal toolbox in tow. That morning at breakfast you suggested buying some weaner pigs to raise up and either sell in the fall or put more food on the table, especially when humans are hard to come by. You didn’t say it out loud, but you’re secretly hoping that if you can successfully establish a healthy herd of pigs that perhaps the murder and cannibalism will stop, or at least be drastically reduced - both because while you can tolerate those activities at this point you still don’t like it, and also because the longer it goes on the greater the chances of being discovered gets. And while you wouldn’t mind seeing Drayton behind bars, it would break your heart to lose Bubba. Drayton complained about the cost of investing in and raising livestock larger than chickens until you declared you would pay for it and that you and Bubba would do all the work of caring for them, so now you’re inspecting the yard for a suitable place for the pigs when they arrive.

“I think this one might work well,” you say as you and Bubba stand in front of a rather run-down old shed with a wooden-fenced paddock that looks like it might have housed hogs at one point in the past. “We can probably fix it up to hold two or three pigs pretty easily, what do you think?”Bubba agrees, and soon you’re hammering nails back into place while he scours the surrounding sheds and piles of junk for boards and metal to patch up the missing parts from the shelter and fence. Though it’s not as sweltering as usual today, it’s still quite hot and before long there’s a fine sheen of sweat on your skin and you can see the same on Bubba as he carries the heavy boards and holds them in place for you to hammer the nails. Watching him work is always so sexy no matter what the task, and when he lifts an enormous sheet of corrugated metal over his head to patch up the roof you feel the flames of desire begin licking at your core. It’s been a long time since you got down and dirty in the great outdoors, and never have you done it in an animal pen. You’re suddenly extremely turned on and put down your hammer. What better place to have Bubba fuck you the way you’ve been fantasizing about since even before you saw those cattle across from the gas station? You stare up at him as he fusses with the metal, drinking in his form and admiring his body… thinking about all the power that body contains being unleashed on you. Your crotch has fully recovered from your recent bedroom activities by now, and this time you want him huge and rough and aggressive, like a bull elephant in musth. You want to be helpless beneath him. You want your sweet, submissive man to dominate you completely, to fuck you so hard you can barely walk afterwards. You want him to fuck you like the animals you’ll be raising in this very pen. You want him to breed you the way Drayton threatened so long ago. Thanks to the IUD it’s extremely unlikely you’ll actually get pregnant, but the thought of him breeding you is so scorchingly hot that part of you actually hopes your birth control fails. What a difference a year can make.

You get to your feet and saunter over to him. He’s looking at the roof with both arms stretched up, and he’s so focused on finding just the right place to secure the sheet metal that he doesn’t notice you approaching until you press your back right up against his stomach and wiggle your ass. There’s a loud, metallic clatter as Bubba lets go of the metal and his arms instantly drop so he can grab your waist with both hands. When you push back more firmly against him he squeals excitedly and thrusts his hips forward to meet you, and you hum in anticipation. It’s so easy to get him ready for action, and you love it. “Bubba, I want you to fuck me like the cows and chickens,” you purr as he nuzzles his face into your hair, and you reach one hand up and back to run your fingers through his own dark curls. “Take me like that bull, honey, do it rough and make me yours. Don’t be gentle.”

Ever obedient, he squeals even louder and grips you even tighter, then before you know it he’s lifted you off of the ground, holding you so he can get to his knees right there in the dirt. He sets you on your knees as well, then rubs his eager hands all over your body from shoulders to ass before reaching around to fondle your breasts while he humps against your back. You squirm as he nibbles and kisses the skin at the back of your neck, and you can feel him getting hard at record speed. Your underwear is damp already - they definitely need to go, as do his pants. All of your clothes need to go, in fact, so you say: “Rip my clothes off, baby, I don’t care if you ruin them. Don’t be gentle.”Bubba growls like he did the first time you had sex, and you’re glad that he seems to be having no trouble getting into the spirit of things. Then you gasp when he does as you request, tearing the thin fabric of your tank top as if it were paper. His hands go back to your chest for a moment, groping and squeezing and twisting your nipples, squealing and grunting and driving you wild. His hands then travel down your bare stomach to rub against your crotch through your shorts, and you spread your knees further apart and bend forward a bit, arching your back and thrusting your ass towards him in invitation. He tugs at your shorts so hard that your knees leave the ground and you fall forward to catch yourself on your hands, but the shorts won’t budge - they fit you too well and even Bubba isn’t strong enough to tear denim with just his hands, so you hurriedly unbutton them and drag down the zipper so you can wriggle free while he pulls. You’re wearing what you suspect are his favorite pair of panties - the small, lacy ones he’d swiped from a victim and gifted to you so long ago - but instead of ripping them off he grabs your butt with both hands and shoves his face right between your cheeks. You let out a startled squeak, though you really shouldn’t be surprised. Bubba definitely has a thing for going down on you, and after all, he’s doing just what that bull did to the cow, as requested. He snuffles and grunts his way up towards your lower back, kissing and nibbling just above the waistband of your panties and kneading your ass while making low, excited noises against your skin. His thick fingers fumble at the edge of the delicate, lacy fabric for a moment before he finally yanks them down your thighs, then he wraps one arm beneath your belly so he can hoist you right up off the ground long enough for him to pull them all the way down and off your legs. You’re certain he could tear those panties even more effortlessly than he did your shirt, but he probably doesn’t want to ruin them if he’s as fond of them as you suspect he is. Next time you’ll be sure to wear a different pair so he’ll destroy them in his eagerness to get to you.

Bubba kisses and licks you all over your backside just like he saw that bull doing to the cow, stroking and squeezing the flesh of your thighs and ass with his palms as he works his way down to your already-dripping cunt. You feel like a sow in heat, and he squeals with arousal at the wetness he finds before spreading your cheeks with his hands again so he can stick his face right against your sex. His fat, wet tongue slides out from between his lips to lap at your velvety folds and you moan and drop your head towards the ground, then start panting when he shoves that slippery muscle as deep into you as he can. His fingers soon follow, and you shudder and twitch as he slobbers between your hole and your pussy, his saliva trailing down to help ease those thick digits inside of you with an obscene squelch. He works his way up to three fingers, stretching and scissoring and getting you ready for his cock like you’ve taught him to do.He’s eating you out and fingering you while you’re totally nude and he’s still fully clothed, trying his damndest to get you off before he’s even bothered to undress himself. He’s such a good, thoughtful lover even when you ask him to be rough. It’s sexy and sweet, but you’re so turned on that you don’t need to come before he fucks you. You’re ready for him _now_.

“God, Bubba, I need your big cock in me now, please… put it in and fuck me hard!” you gasp and he squeals like a boar in rut, though he’s as obedient as he is ferocious and feral. He leaves you just long enough to strip out of his own clothes, and you look over your shoulder as best you can to watch. Once he’s as naked as you are he roughly grabs your hips and yanks you back towards him, and soon his hard, straining length is slipping between your thighs and cheeks as he thrusts blindly against you, clumsy and frenzied in his lust. He comes close to entering the wrong hole once or twice, and the thought of him fucking your ass makes your heart pound even faster - but as hot as that sounds, he’s so thick he would tear you apart without plenty of lube and preparation so you reach one hand awkwardly behind you to help guide him into your pussy instead. You spread your legs wider and try to push his dick down in the right direction, and at last he hits his target and you sharply cry out as he fills you up with one violent thrust. Your back arches and your hand leaves your butt to join your other hand scrabbling in the dirt, clawing for purchase and trying not to collapse beneath him when he mounts you completely and presses his weight down on top of your back. He braces himself on his hands on either side of you just barely enough to keep from crushing you to the ground and immediately begins thrusting, and though he starts out rather frantic and erratic he eventually finds a quick-but-steady rhythm. You bounce back to meet him, the wet slap of his cock in your pussy music to your ears and the heady scent of his sweat and musk and your sex sending your arousal right off the charts.

“Ffffuck! Yeah, Bubba, pound me harder, baby!” you cry out, and when he bellows like a worried cow you reassure him: “It’s okay, it feels so good… I’ll say stop if you do it too rough, now please, really nail me honey, give me everything you got, please!”Compliant as ever, Bubba follows your orders and grabs your hips with both hands to start slamming into you, his soft stomach pressing against your ass as he plunges in to the hilt over and over. It’s almost too much, but not enough to ask him to ease up and you’re out of your mind with ecstasy just barely bordering on pain, gasping and moaning and stuffed full of his hot, turgid flesh as he plows into you just like your nightmares a year ago… but oh God, it isn’t a nightmare now. You drop to your forearms and press your cheek into the dirt, and your moans lurch with every brutal surge of his hips. He’s pounding you so hard that it feels like your teeth are rattling, and you taste the dry Texas dust against your lolling tongue, your breath sending little puffs of it into the air before it settles once more, some sticking to the drool trickling from your panting mouth and caking your cheek and chin. Bubba leans over you so you’re completely covered by his massive body again, and the damp hair of his stomach and chest scrapes against your back as he sweats and grunts and pants harshly against your shoulders, nipping your skin with his pointy teeth and you feel him drooling a little bit as well. Suddenly he bites down on the back of your neck - not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to get your attention and you yelp and lift up your head, arching your back even more. He ruts into you harder and doesn’t let go - he’s biting you the way the roosters do to the hens and it almost makes you come right here and now. He’s as out of control as you are, but in your lust-addled mind you still know that he would stop if you told him to.

“Such a… good…boy!” you moan between thrusts. You didn’t mean to actually say it out loud, but Bubba releases your neck and squeals so loudly that it makes your ears ring before he gasps, _“Uh-huh!”_ over and over in time with his thrusts. “You like… being a… good… boy… for me?” you manage to say, and he whines and squeals and keeps panting _“Uh-huh”_ as he fucks into you even faster. Now that’s a kink you can definitely get behind, but it’s going to have to wait because your ability to speak is rapidly slipping away and there’s one final thing you want to say before you lose it completely: “Bubba… I’m… gonna… come!” you cry out, reaching one hand between your legs to rub your clit fast and hard as your womb starts to tremble with the first flutters of orgasm - it’s going to be a deep one, and you hope he can finish along with you. “C-… come… inside me… baby… I need you… to fill… me up! Please... come… in my pussy… baby... please!” you beg, and he practically screams. It’s the first time you’ve asked him to ejaculate inside you, and apparently that does it for him because he bucks into you so hard and so deep that your knees actually leave the ground and you almost fall face-first into the dirt. He makes three more especially forceful thrusts and screams again, then howls as he pumps his warm cum into your cunt, his cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your walls with his seed. That’s enough to send you over the edge as well and you shatter beneath him with a scream of your own, your whole body shaking and jerking as you convulse around his engorged, throbbing length, squeezing him so tightly that you would probably push him right out if he wasn’t so strong. As it is he stays buried deep inside of you until both of your orgasms subside, and he remains there even as you feel him begin to go soft. Bubba pants into your hair and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, tenderly licking the spot where he bit you and making soft, loving little noises while you quiver beneath him with your face in the dirt, and it takes every ounce of your remaining strength not to fall flat on the ground and sleep for a hundred years.

The thick, white cream of your combined cum oozes from your gaping pussy and down his cock when he eventually pulls out. There’s so much of it, and when you feel more spill from you Bubba groans and before you know it his face is right there, moaning against your swollen sex and licking you clean. “Jesus, Bubba, oh my God…” you pant, shaking so hard that you almost collapse before he grabs your hips to keep you on your knees. You wanted raw and animalistic, and he definitely delivered. He still is, in fact, and you lay there helpless and exhausted as he holds you up off the ground by your hips while he cleans you up as best he can with his lips and tongue. He’s the kinkiest man you’ve ever been with, and he doesn’t even know it. He probably doesn’t even know the meaning of the word _“kinky”_ , which somehow makes it even sexier.

Once he’s apparently satisfied with his clean-up job, Bubba gently lifts and pulls you backward so he can sit you on his lap and kiss you everywhere he can reach, making soft, affectionate little noises and stroking and patting his hands feather-light all over your body. You’re both still trembling a little and you can feel his heart still thudding beneath his ribs when you run your hands over his chest. After a few moments Bubba gently takes your face in both of his hands and tilts your head to look up at him, and you see the uncertainty in his expression and hear the undercurrent of anxiety in his babbling. He’s most likely worried he may have hurt you, that he might have been too rough even though you never told him to stop, but oh Lord, nothing could be further from the truth.

You lean forward to give him a sweet little kiss, then pull away with a warm, reassuring smile. “Oh my God, Bubba, that was incredible. That was the _best_ kind of rough, baby, you’re absolutely amazing. So big and strong, and you filled me up so good.”

He looks relieved and then pleased, then reaches one hand down between your legs to carefully rub his fingertip against your still flushed and tender slit before dipping shallowly inside. You moan quietly and squeeze your stretched, aching muscles around him, and he whines as he removes his slippery, cream-coated finger. He watches himself smear it lightly all over your hypersensitive clit and labia while licking his lips and you whimper. You’re about to ask him to stop, to tell him that you can’t take the stimulation just yet, but then he slides his finger back to your opening to push as much cum back inside of you as possible. Fuck, can he _get_ any more unintentionally filthy?

Remembering his earlier reaction to one particular phrase, you bring your own hand down alongside his to stroke his knuckles and coo, “Did you like finishing inside me, baby? Did you like filling me up with your cum like a good boy?”

His head snaps back up to meet your gaze and you see the heat burning in his eyes. “Uh-huh, uh-huh, good. Good, good.” he nods fervently, then pushes his finger in deeper and cups his palm against your mound.It seems like he’s trying to keep as much of his remaining semen inside of you as he can, and you wonder if he knows that this act can lead to pregnancy… wonder if he’s hoping you’ll soon be carrying his child.

You decide not to wreck the mood by explaining birth control devices to him and instead lean in to murmur against his open mouth, “I like it, too. I want you to be a good boy and fill me up whenever I ask you to. Will you do that for me, honey?”He lets out a noise somewhere between a squeal and a groan as he frantically nods, accidentally knocking your teeth uncomfortably together in his eagerness. You chuckle softly and Bubba attacks you with the sloppiest, most desperate kiss he’s given you in awhile, but it feels less about lust and more like he’s trying to express his desire to obey you. To do whatever you ask of him, to please you and do a good job for you. To work to earn and keep your affection, just as he feels he must work to keep his place within his own family, so that his own brother will continue to take care of him. Drayton may reward Bubba only with fewer beatings and insults, but _you_ reward him with kindness and compassion and physical pleasure… and - you finally fully admit to yourself - love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I know some of ya'll were waiting for this kinda scene (I know I was, lol) and I hope it was satisfactory.  
> As always, your comments give me life, thank you sooo much to everyone who leaves them, I appreciate it! :D


	27. Chapter 27

Sweaty and sticky and temporarily sated, you nuzzle and hold one another right there in the dirt, you perched on Bubba’s lap with his big arms around you. But the satiation doesn’t last long, and as the passion of your kisses and caresses grows you can feel Bubba growing beneath you as well.“Stay just like this, honey,” you murmur, shifting on his lap till his quickly-stiffening length is nestled tightly between your thighs. His hips jerk so he can rub himself against you, but he manages to obey and doesn’t force himself inside.“You’re such a good boy for me... so sweet. My big, strong, furry, handsome teddy bear,” you coo, and he whimpers and babbles some earnest-sounding gibberish while patting his hands more quickly along your back. You hang on to his shoulders and he thrusts up to meet you as best he can while you wiggle atop his lap, grinding together but not joining, the sweet friction of skin and hair making you whimper. You could absolutely climax again this way, rutting against one another without penetration, and you know he could, too... but you’re not in the mood for that right at the moment. You want to clench around him when you hit your peak, and you want to feel him spill inside of you again when he comes undone. After all, you’ve let him come in you once already so there’s no harm in letting him do it again. And again… and forever.

“Do you want to be inside me again, baby? Do you want to be a good boy and fill me up nice and tight and make me come? Do you want to come in my pussy again?”

“Uh-huh!” he says eagerly, then immediately runs his hands down your back to your ass to lift you into position. You reach down to help guide him inside, and you both moan as he pulls you down to envelop his flesh with your own. Bubba holds you in place while he shifts to sit back on his haunches, allowing you to take him in even deeper and you sigh against his shoulder as he grunts in pleasure. He latches both hands onto your hips, gripping you tightly and lifting you up till he nearly slips out before pulling you down again, impaling you fully on his still-slippery cock with a squelch and a moan from you both. He feels so thick you feel so full, your slick inner walls hugging his girth as he maneuvers you effortlessly the way that he apparently wants to fuck you this time: not nearly as rough as a few moments ago, but still rougher than the previous rolls in the sack you’ve shared together and you like it just fine. More than fine, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hang on for the ride as he slides you smoothly up and down on his lap like a well-lubricated piston.

”That’s so good, Bubba,” you whisper between kisses against his hot, sweaty skin, and he whimpers and nods and says “ _Good_ ” in return. After that you don’t speak much except for an occasional breathy little _“good boy”_ , which he answers with a sigh and a sweet, tender kiss against your forehead. The sounds of both of your gasps and moans fill the shabby little pigpen that will soon house your new source of income, food and entertainment, and the heady scent of your combined sex is so strong that it manages to drown out the smell of the dirt where those future hogs will eventually be fucking just like you and Bubba are doing right now. “Oh fuck,” you moan into his chest at the thought - the only place you can think of that’s filthier to have sex is the butchers block, and you finally fully accept your descent into depravity when you admit that sounds incredibly hot.

He starts moving you faster without being told, and you can tell from the way that he’s panting and the glazed-over look in his eyes that he’s getting close. He lasted an impressively long time during the first round, but he’s no doubt hyper-sensitized by now and you need just a little longer to catch up with him. “Hold still for minute, please, honeybear,” you request, and though he whimpers pitifully he does as you ask. “Thank you, baby,” you praise him as you remove one hand from his shoulder to circle your clit. He licks his teeth over and over as he looks down to watch, then clutches your ass harder when you say, “I wanna come on your big, hard dick before you finish inside me... before you fill me up with your cum and breed me again.”  Talking like this is probably a mistake if you want him to last longer, but speaking those words helps get you off faster too, and you circle your fingertips more quickly against your swollen bundle of nerves. His eyes squeeze shut and his thick eyebrows knit together in an expression that looks very much like pain, and you can actually feel him grow even fuller and harder inside you. A shiver of arousal zings from your womb to the tips of your toes at the look on his face and the throbbing of his no-doubt achingly engorged cock inside of you - he’s clearly in ecstatic agony, and you’re not far behind. Bubba grits his teeth and sucks in a harsh breath when you squeeze your cunt around him, and he involuntarily bucks into you just a bit. But you’re close enough now that it’s fine, and you use the last bit of your logical brain that’s still functioning to encourage him to move again.

”Yeah, Bubba, that’s it... go ahead and fuck me again,” you say breathily, rubbing yourself faster. He doesn’t need to be told twice, and with a groan of relief he tightens his grip on your hips to bounce you on his cock even more quickly than before. He opens his eyes again to stare straight into yours, and he’s wearing the most equisite expression of love and lust that you’ve ever been gifted. He may be more simple than most when it comes to intelligence, but that doesn’t mean his heart isn’t as deep as they come. And while he’s naturally better at raw, unbridled and animalistic fucking than any man you’ve ever been with, his very-human love is more selfless and pure than anyone you’ve ever even known, both inside the bedroom and out.

He starts up that particular squealing he does when he’s close to coming: loud and hoglike and that would no doubt be considered incredibly odd and even off-putting by most people except for yourself. Hell, you also found his frequent squeals and squawks odd and off-putting when you first met him, but now it’s familiar and even endearing. And while his piglet-like squeals are adorable, _these_ squeals are pure sex. He’s louder than you are, no doubt thanks to his considerable size advantage and resultant greater lung capacity, but you do your best to match him as your own ecstatic cries grow louder as well. The head of his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you with every thrust, and you’re so close... but then Bubba goes rigid and lets out a tremendous bovine-like bellow that ends in a howl as you feel him release inside of you. Warm jets of his cum splatter against your cervix as he thrusts up into you as deep as he can, and it’s almost enough to push you over the edge... but not quite. He pants hoarsely against your hair as he comes down again, and you don’t have the heart to tell him yet that you didn’t finish... but you don’t believe in faking orgasms, so once he fully recovers and gives you a kiss you pull back and say sweetly, “I didn’t quite finish yet, will you help me out with that, honeybun?”

His face immediately transforms from sated bliss into mortification. He looks absolutely devastated, and you hasten to reassure him that it’s an easily fixable situation. “It’s okay, Bubba!” you say as gently as you can, “I love seeing you feel so good, and I know you know lots of ways to make me feel good, too. So why don’t you pick one?”  He still looks agitated so you rub your hands all over his chest and add, “You’re still a good boy. Just as long as you help me come, it doesn’t matter how or if it’s really close to when you finish, okay? I promise. I just want you to touch me, honey, please. You know how to make me feel amazing, so you be in charge - just like that bull.”  Really, it works out just fine. You wanted him to be dominant this time, and now that his needs have been taken care of you can just relax and focus only on your own pleasure - and he can as well. “Now, show me what a good boy you are.”

That phrase seems to break through his self-chastisement and gets his attention back on the task at hand - literally. He nods and gives you a passionate kiss as he wraps his arms more tightly around you and leans forward to lay you down on your back on the ground, then immediately slips one of his hands between your thighs while the other goes to your breasts. He doesn’t stop kissing you as his fingertips stroke through your wet, swollen lips before dipping shallowly inside, and you spread your legs wider and moan softly into his mouth when he pushes in deeper. After a moment he pulls his head away so he can kiss his way to your jaw and then down your neck, nibbling and sucking little love bites into your sensitive skin. Your hands move to his hair as he travels down lower, and a breathy gasp escapes you when he draws one of your nipples into his hot, wet mouth and swirls his tongue around it. His kisses against your face and neck were relatively gentle and tidy, but once he reaches your breasts he gets sloppy and rough, licking and slobbering and lightly biting your flesh with his pointy teeth while clumsily groping your other breast with his hand that isn’t busy down below. He shoves two fingers deep into your cunt and presses his thumb against your clit, then begins thrusting his hand in a very similar rhythm and speed to how he was fucking you with his cock moments ago. You’re dripping with two loads of his semen, his spit and your own slick, and you feel it ooze down between your cheeks and onto the ground as it’s displaced by his thick fingers.  “Faster, please,” you moan, then squeak in shock when he pinches your nipple between his teeth more forcefully. He grunts around your breast and complies, fucking you hard and fast with his fingers and relentlessly grinding his thumb against your clit while he ravages the tender skin of your breasts with his mouth. He’s getting more and more worked up, some of his earlier brutality edging into his touch again, and you’re going to have bruises - both inside and out - later on... but God, you couldn’t possibly care less. You wanted him rough this time, and he’s still delivering.

”Bubba!” you cry out when the pads of his fingers find that sweet spot deep inside you. It’s a bit different than having his cock rub against it, but that doesn’t make it worse - it’s just different. He seems to take note of your reaction and does it again, then you feel his ring finger press against your asshole, smearing around that cocktail of cum and saliva before slipping inside. That does it, and your climax rears up like a tidal wave, clenching your muscles around his fingers as you arch off the ground and stuff even more of your breast into his mouth. He sucks on it so hard that it’s almost uncomfortable, and a loud, hoarse wail bursts from your throat. Bubba moans just as loudly when you tug on his hair, sending vibrations through your flesh and stars bursting behind your tightly-closed eyelids.

 

You’re about to reassure him again that he’s a good boy and that he’s thoroughly satisfied you - indeed, truer words were never spoken - but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing your mouth again, almost too fiercely. It feels like he’s trying to make up for his finishing before you by being especially vigorous now, even though it really isn’t necessary. Coming on his hard dick is definitely fun, but there will be more opportunities later... but later turns out to be sooner than you anticipated, because you’re shocked to feel his erection rubbing against your leg already. Once again you’re amazed by his incredibly quick recovery time, and you can’t help but think he’d be one helluva porn star. He stopped rubbing your clit after your climax, but he keeps thrusting his fingers inside your pussy and you moan into his mouth, the stimulation quickly becoming too much. He finally removes his hand and you exhale in relief, but instead of your usual post-orgasmic cuddling he pulls you up off of the ground and turns you around so your back is to him, then sets you down on his lap once again. His cock slips between your cheeks as he shoves his face into your neck, forcing your head to tilt so he can lavish the side of your throat with wet, almost violent kisses. “Bubba...” you whimper, and his name barely leaves your lips before he tilts you back and lifts you up, then reaches down to take himself in hand and plunge balls-deep into your cunt with one forceful thrust.

”B-Bubba!” you stutter, gasping and squirming against his body, your head lolling back and hitting his shoulder with a thud. You’re expecting him to position you on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like an animal again, but he stays on his haunches and tightly clutches the underside of your thighs so he can bounce you on his dick like before. Your legs are splayed wide open and you can only imagine the obscene display of your “ _fornication_ ”, as Drayton puts it, and you wish you were fucking in front of a mirror so you can see Bubba’s thick, veiny cock disappearing into your body. He’s grunting and growling more aggressively than you’ve ever heard him, like he’s completely determined to get you off the way you requested to the point where he’s almost angry with himself. Your poor crotch can barely handle it - your whole body in fact feels weirdly numb from overstimulation and you writhe helplessly in his grip while making the most pathetic noises you’ve ever heard come out of your own mouth. You almost beg him to stop, but before you can think of and formulate a coherent word that weird numbness begins to shift into a deep, burning, electrical sensation. It spreads out from the tired, overused walls of your pussy and into your womb, then up your spine and down every limb as you reach back behind yourself, trying to cling to any part of him you can reach. He starts muttering gibberish in a low, feral tone between his grunts and growls, and you shriek when he abruptly lets go of your thighs to drop you fully onto his lap. But he doesn’t let you rest for long, and before you can even hope to catch your breath he starts bucking up beneath you as he reaches his hands around to squeeze your breasts and rub at your clit.

”Fffuck!!” You practically scream as he rubs your raw, swollen cluster of nerves faster than you thought his fingers could move. You can feel the warm, sticky mess oozing out of your overstuffed cunt and down his cock as he ruts into you for all he’s worth, and thinking of him coming in you a _third_ time finally forces your body right over the edge. It’s almost too much, almost painful in fact, like being struck with a bolt of lightening that never ends as you lose track of time and space and nearly black out. You don’t recognize your own voice when you whine and push at his hand still working your clit. Mercifully he removes his fingers, but he doesn’t stop pounding into you as his gibberish morphs into meaningless, animalistic noises. You lay there limp and submissive against his sweaty stomach and chest as he uses your body. You’re trembling and gasping and on the verge of crying - but not in a bad way. It’s just overwhelming, you’ve never been put through the sexual wringer like this and you can hardly believe that the man fucking you so ferociously now was a shy, tentative virgin not long ago. Just when you’re sure you’re about to pass out, Bubba yanks you down fully onto his cock and goes still as he lets out a hoarse, agonized scream, pumping you full of his seed yet again. _There can’t possibly be any more room left in there_ , you think dazedly to yourself, and sure enough you feel it spill out of you, forced between the tight grip of your inner walls and his fat, throbbing dick.

Once his shuddering stills he lays down on his back and takes you along with him, but just like before he doesn’t pull out even after he’s completely soft again. He pants into your hair and you tremble on top of him, gazing tiredly up at the shabby corrugated metal roof of the shelter above that’s keeping the hot Texas sun from burning the both of you. “Jesus Christ, Bubba...” you eventually murmur, too exhausted to speak any louder than that. He babbles something tired-sounding in return, his sentence ending with one word that breaks your heart:

”Good?” He sounds so hopeful and worried, so desperate to know if he’s satisfied you. You muster up the strength to wiggle around onto your side and he moves his arms to help keep you from rolling right off of him until you make it onto your stomach and lift up your head. He lifts his head as well, and when you meet his anxious eyes you say firmly:

”The _best_. You are the absolute best boy, honey. The best man, the best lover, the best friend... and soon to be the best husband.”

He looks like he might start to cry, but a quivering smile spreads across his face before he squeals happily and lifts his head up more to kiss you. He hugs you close to his chest and you reach one hand up to play with his hair the way he loves. Who’d have ever thought such a soft, sensitive, sweetheart of a man could so thoroughly wreck you in bed? Or in the dirt, rather. You might have to ask him to carry you back inside because your legs feel like jelly and your pussy is aching. You’re gonna be feeling the aftermath of this romp in the pigpen for the rest of the week, no doubt, and it’s probably done a number on his dick as well. You giggle at that thought and he giggles as well, and you can’t ever remember feeling so content.

You lay there for hours, just cuddling and giving one another light little smooches until the sun starts to go down. Grandpa and the chickens need tending and Drayton will most likely be home before long, and though it’s already happened once you’d still like to minimize the number of times he sees you and Bubba having sex. Eventually you suggest going inside and taking a bath, and Bubba agrees so you both get to your feet. You’re an absolute mess: a huge quantity of cum is trickling slow and snail-like down your thighs, and while you’re not one to walk around outside in the nude, putting on your underwear or shorts will just make them require instant washing. His crotch is a slippery mess as well, dark pubic and thigh hair glistening with the wet evidence of the incredible session of sex you just had. You’re both covered in dirt and sweat from head to toe and you walk hand-in-hand back to the house as naked as the days you were born, your clothing draped over your arms and the toolbox left forgotten in the pigpen that you’ll never look at the same way again.


	28. Chapter 28

“Found it!” Drayton announces that evening after dinner while holding up a large, slightly-battered old book: the Sawyer family Bible.

“Great!” you say pleasantly, and Bubba nods. You’re sitting together on the sofa, holding hands and listening to your favorite radio station: the one that plays slow, romantic country songs every evening. “Guess our days of sinful fornication are about to come to an end, huh, babe?” you grin, and Bubba giggles as Drayton brushes the feathers and dust off of the old leather-bound tome.

“Yer goddamn right they are,” he grumbles. “Startin’ now. Get over here, you two.”

“Hang on, we can’t just do it right now.” you protest, “It’s gotta be special. Let’s do it tomorrow evening after you get home from the station, that’ll give me and Bubba plenty of time to get ready. We’re not gonna go to hell from just one more night of sleeping together out of wedlock.” Bubba nods in agreement, but then looks alarmed when you add, “Tell you what - we won’t even fuck tonight, how about that?”But then you give him a little wink and he smiles back. Drayton, however, does not smile, but by now he’s finally learned that you’re as stubborn as he is.

“Fine. Tomorrow night. Don’t know what yer thinkin’ could make this so _“special”_ , but then again, I don’t know why you think this fat hog’s so _“special”_ neither,” he mutters, nodding towards Bubba.

“You wouldn’t be wondering that if you’d been out in the pigpen with us this afternoon…” you say with a sly grin, and Bubba starts tittering uncontrollably.

Drayton frowns at you both. “I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about nothin’. I don’t know what yer talkin’ about, but I know I don’t wanna hear it.”

You suppress your smile and try to get at least partially serious again. “Yes sir. Thanks for letting us wait till tomorrow. It means a lot.”

Drayton huffs grumpily, but you can tell that he’s pleased by finally being shown some respect. He may be a turd 95% of the time, but you don’t mind throwing him a bone every now and then to help keep him as pleasant as possible.

 

You snuggle up close to Bubba’s side when you both retire for the night, leaning your head on his big, solid shoulder while he runs his hand along the length of your arm. “So, I’m thinking lots of flowers tomorrow. Do you agree?”

“Uh-huh! Good.”

“Both bouquets and maybe in our hair and clothes. There’s so many pretty flowers in the garden... and it might be nice to do the ceremony out there, too. It shouldn’t be too hot in the evening. What do you think?”

You can feel him nodding as he says, “Good, good.”

“And I might be able to whip up a little something sweet to eat with what we’ve got in the kitchen, how about that?”

“Uh-huh! Good!” he squeals happily.

“And we can wear our very best clothes and jewelry. And of course Grandpa and Grandma should be there.”

He squeals and nods again.

“And your chicken can come, too. We can just bring her cage outside, and maybe put flowers on it. Sound good?”

He doesn’t even squeal this time, he just grabs you and pulls you on top of him for a passionate kiss, stroking your hair with his hands before patting them down to your back… and lower.

“I told your brother we weren’t gonna have sex tonight, remember?” you smile against his lips, and he whines pitifully even as he squeezes both of your butt cheeks in his hands. “Naughty boy…” you tease, and he immediately lets go and stops kissing you. You’re confused until you meet his eyes and find him looking thoroughly chastised - he’s taken your words literally. “No, Bubba, I mean that in a good way! Sometimes being a naughty boy is very, very good.” He looks utterly perplexed by this contradiction so you let it go for now - it seems likely you’ll have to show him what you mean rather than explain it with words. You trail the tip of your finger along his plump lower lip and lean in to give him a kiss on the tip of his nose. “Don’t worry about it, babe. Besides, just because we’re not gonna have sex doesn’t mean there’s not plenty of other things we can do, right?”

A wide grin slowly spreads across his face and you’re glad he’s on board. Truthfully, telling Drayton that was more for your sake than his, as you can’t take any more penetration quite yet after the pounding Bubba gave you in the pigpen earlier. You give him a sly little smile and another kiss, then start working your way down his jaw and throat, sucking hot, wet kisses into his skin. You feel his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps, and he squeezes your ass more firmly before he’s forced to relinquish his grip as you scoot further down his body. You reach down to take his half-hard cock in hand, relishing in his quick little breaths as you stroke him to full size. “Mmm… my big handsome teddy bear,” you murmur against his stomach before working your way down the trail where his hair’s the thickest, and he sighs and reaches down to gently pet your head with both hands. Your jaw eventually bumps against his erection, and you pause to look up at his face and find him licking his teeth and panting. He’s so responsive and you love it. Every time you go down on him - or do _anything_ remotely intimate, for that matter - he reacts as if it’s the first time, and it’s the cutest thing in the world.

You lick a long stripe along the underside of him from base to tip, and he makes a tiny little noise like a frightened mouse. “Do you like it when I do this for you, Bubba?”He whimpers and nods and pets your hair faster, and you give him another long lick before sliding his foreskin back to expose the pink, engorged glans, already beaded with precum and just begging to be sucked. You caress his sac and the testicles within, heavy and plump with his seed and start slowly stroking his shaft again, determined to milk as many hot, sticky loads from him as he’s got, even if that’s only one after your marathon in the pigpen… but hopefully he’s got more than one. The night is still young, after all, and so are you and your soon-to-be husband.

Bubba moans as you worship his cock, licking his throbbing length like an ice cream cone before sucking the head between your lips and flicking your tongue across his leaking slit for a taste. The salt of his skin and the musky tang of his precum has you dripping between your own legs, and you pull back just far enough to murmur, “Mmm, you taste so good, I love sucking your cock for you, honey. I hope you don’t come too soon because I could just taste you forever and ever.”He groans louder at that, his eyes clouded with lust and a slight smattering of anxiety - he obviously heard and wants to obey your plea for him not to finish quickly, and he’s probably worried that he might not manage to last as long as you want him to - but you’ll help him with that. You feel a little mean, but finally teasing him will fun. While you’ve treated one another to plenty of foreplay, so far you’ve been sure not to make him wait too long or push him too far. But right now you decide to see how long you can torture him before he snaps or starts begging. You pull back even further so the tip of your tongue just barely touches the tip of his cock, wiggling into the sensitive groove and licking up each drop of thick, salty liquid as it emerges while he whimpers and pants. You graze your fingertips against his balls so lightly that it probably tickles, and he squirms around on the mattress and lifts his hips, trying to push more of himself into your mouth. But with each attempt he makes you only smirk and pull further away. He makes a frustrated little huff and tries to gently steer your head closer with his hands, but you outmaneuver him and instead drop down to just above his balls and trail the tip of your tongue ever-so-lightly back up the underside of his cock. He yelps when you suddenly wrap your lips around the head and give him one good suck, but you release him just as quickly and his yelp turns into a whine.

“I’m being a naughty girl right now, aren’t I? But it’s not bad, is it?” you look up and say, and even through his frustrated arousal you can see comprehension dawn in his eyes. He makes a pitiful-sounding whimper but shakes his head, and you flick your tongue over his slit one more time before tracing along each bulging vein at a snails pace, leaving him panting and whining and still trying to get himself into your mouth properly somehow - though not too hard. He’s too good a boy to force you, it seems, no matter how frustrated he is, and it makes you love him even more. Your hands move from his balls to his soft inner thighs and you remove your mouth completely. “Will you spread your legs for me, honey?” you ask, and he doesn’t hesitate before obeying - in fact, he almost knocks you in the jaw with how quickly he bends and spreads his knees. You put your fingers in your mouth to thoroughly wet them, looking him in the eyes the whole time. “Would you like me to touch you here?” you coo, dragging one finger down his perineum and stopping just over his hole.

“Uh-h-huh,” he stutters, his tongue darting out to lick up the bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He’s so cute.

“Can you ask nicely like a good boy?” you say sweetly, lightly circling your fingertips around his tight pucker, spreading wetness but not slipping inside yet. Bubba makes the most pathetic noise you think you’ve ever heard him make before letting loose a frantic, decidedly desperate-sounding string of gibberish. “That’s very nice,” you praise him, then slowly ease one finger inside. You keep your mouth and other hand off of him for now, letting him focus solely on the sensation of being penetrated - and focus he does, eyes scrunched shut and jaw slack, taking shallow, shaky breaths as you probe deeper. You pull back nearly all the way out before pushing in again, gently stretching and working his tight ring of muscle until he relaxes. You then add a second finger ever-so-gently, and he gasps and clenches around them. “Just relax baby, take nice, deep breaths. I’ll take care of you.” you say soothingly, and like always, he obeys. You feel him begin to relax once again, and you add more saliva to help ease both fingers deeper inside. “There you go,” you coo, and he whimpers and moans. You watch like a hawk for any sign that he’s uncomfortable, but you know his expressions and noises well enough by now to know he’s feeling nothing but good. _Very_ good. Almost as good as he looks spread out and vulnerable to you, and you honestly can’t decide which you prefer: squirming, whimpering, submissive Bubba or growling, howling, dominant Bubba. Each one has their treasured place in your steadily-growing sexual repertoire. He gives a shuddering moan when you find that sweet spot inside him quicker this time than before, and you slowly caress its smooth surface. Now that the cat’s out of the bag and you’re out from under Drayton’s iron grip, you’re definitely gonna go purchase a new strap-on for you and Bubba to enjoy.

He’s clearly tired of having his cock and balls neglected because he reaches down a shaky hand to start touching himself, but before he gets a chance you say kindly - but firmly: “Let me do that for you, Bubba.”His hands hover over his straining erection and he clenches his fists a few times before finally dropping them to pat his knuckles against his thighs repeatedly, but you leave him hanging - you’ll touch him there soon enough. His cock is leaking profusely and you wonder if you can make him come just from rubbing his prostate... but eventually decide you’ll try that another time. You just fuck him with your fingers for awhile, and his agitated tic gets faster and the pitch of his whines gets higher, then his voice actually breaks when your tongue at last returns to the sensitive ridge below the head of his cock. You lick lightly up and down his length at a leisurely pace, occasionally flicking your tongue against his balls and relishing his agonized noises while still thrusting your fingers into his ass in a steady, gentle rhythm. His dick is laying flat against his belly, spilling precum all over himself, and he’s so hard and you’ve been torturing him for so long that the head’s shiny and swollen and nearly purple. He looks like he’s about to explode and it seems quite likely that he could actually come just from this... it’s tempting to try, but then he finds his voice again as his hands hit his thighs harder and faster, gasping out garbled pleas and you decide to bring his torment to an end before he starts hurting himself.

“You’re being such a good boy right now, Bubba. And good boys deserve a reward, don’t they?” you say kindly and he frantically nods and pleads even more desperately - and it’s music to your ears. You rub that sweet spot inside of him faster and just a little bit more firmly, then suck the head of his cock in your mouth and begin stroking his shaft at a quick, steady pace. Bubba lets out a loud, relieved sob, and you’ve been keeping him on edge for so long that he comes within two seconds of getting your full attention. He wails loudly enough to shake the dust off the furniture and make his pet chicken squawk in alarm, and you do your best to swallow each powerful spurt of his cum... well, most of them. He seems to have a thing for seeing his semen on your skin, so you let some of it spill from your lips and trail down your chin in a filthy display.

”What a good boy, so handsome, so sexy. You’re so cute when you come, honey, you did such a good job.” you praise him as he whimpers and pants and quivers. He hasn’t even recovered enough to respond yet when suddenly Drayton screams from somewhere else in the house:

“JESUS H. CHRIST, SHUT THE GODDAMN HELL UP OR I’LL BEAT BOTH YER ASSES INTO A FINE, BLOODY PULP!”

It’s a good thing you’ve either swallowed or spit out all of Bubba’s cum, because you snort-laugh so hard that you would have inhaled it if there was any left in your mouth. For his part Bubba appears to still be too blissed out to care much that his brother is angry - he even manages a breathy, tired-sounding chuckle and you take his nonchalant response to Drayton’s yelling as a testament to your sexual skills. Either that or Bubba’s just making progress in seeing himself as a man who doesn’t need to completely submit to his brothers every tantrum and whim... either one is a good thing, in your opinion.

When he finally pries his eyes open again you run your tongue along your lip, licking up a bit of his semen as you slowly ease your fingers back out of him, making him groan. “See, that’s one way to be naughty without it being bad. Understand?”Bubba nods, and though he’s still breathing heavily you can see him re-energizing right before your very eyes. “Are you gonna be a naughty boy now, too? Are you gonna punish me for being a naughty girl?” you say with a wicked grin, and he grins back - he’s starting to catch on. He pats his hands against his stomach in invitation, indicating he wants you to lay on top of him and you oblige, but you don’t even have the chance to get comfy before he rolls you both over until he’s on top. He braces himself above you on one arm and brings his other to your face to smear what’s left of his cum from where it’s dribbled down your chin back up to your lips. He spreads it around with his finger as if it was lipstick and you draw his finger into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around it. He grunts and you see the lust spark in his dark brown eyes, then he pulls his finger from your mouth with a wet popping sound and leans down to kiss you instead. After a moment he begins kissing and sucking his way down to your neck as his big hand finds your breast, and you gasp quietly when he softly squeezes it at the same time as he gently nips at your throat - Bubba is good at copying what you show him, and you suspect that you’re about to get your comeuppance for what you just put him through. And you can hardly wait.


	29. Chapter 29

“Bubba…” you murmur, just a little bit impatiently. He’s been working at your breasts for probably at least five minutes, just sucking, licking, kissing and squeezing, and while it certainly feels good you’re itching for him to get on with it. You don’t want to outright order him because you’re the one who started this game, but this is really getting ridiculous and you’re worried you might actually start spontaneously lactating if he keeps this up. But you told yourself you would do your damndest to hold out longer than he did before you start begging, so when he ignores your subtle admonition you bite your tongue and let him carry on with whatever he has planned. After another several minutes of this you try spreading your legs a bit wider, hoping this will encourage him to move things along without outright having to ask him… but to your utter shock he actually pulls his hand away from your breast and uses it to push your legs back together. He looks up from your chest and says something in what can only be described as a playfully scolding tone, and you’re half irritated and half proud of him. Then he _really_ frustrates you by kissing his way back up to your neck to snuffle into your hair like a pig searching its trough for leftovers. Thankfully, after another moment you _finally_ feel his hand trail downwards. His big, rough palm grazes over your belly so softly that it tickles, making your stomach muscles flutter as you try not to giggle or squirm away. His fingers comb lightly through your pubic hair and you resist the urge to spread your legs again - you don’t want him to scold you a second time.

At long last his hand creeps down far enough that he can slip one thick finger through your folds, and you sigh in pleasure as he probes a bit deeper, searching for wetness. He finds plenty of it - getting him off always turns you on as well. He tilts his hand to force your thighs just slightly apart, and you’re about to say a tiny prayer of thanks in your mind when suddenly - without warning - he gently pinches your clit and you yelp in surprise. “Naughty boy,” you gasp, but he only grins and pushes two fingers inside you. You close your eyes and wait for the good stuff to really get started, but then his hand leaves you and you open your eyes again in frustration… only to find his sex-slicked fingers right in front of your face. Before you can speak he brings one of them to your lips and gently coaxes it into your mouth, and his eyes darken as you moan around that thick digit, tasting yourself on his skin. Once you’ve sucked it clean and dry he pulls it from your mouth, then uses it to collect what’s left of his semen still clinging to your chin. He brings it and his other finger, still slippery with your juices, to his own lips. “ _Very_ naughty boy,” you murmur as he sucks both those fingers clean as well. He murmurs something in return when he removes them from his mouth, and God, you wish you knew what it was. Whatever he said, judging by his tone it was definitely something sexy.

He places his hands on your knees and pushes them gently apart, and you certainly don’t resist. You feel yourself blush as he stares at you hungrily - he’s practically salivating and you’re hoping that perhaps his own excitement will prevent him from dragging this out too much longer. He scoots down the mattress rather gracelessly till his face is over your stomach, then begins planting hot little kisses from your navel to the inside of your right thigh. He moves down till eventually he’s kneeling on the floor and your breathing speeds up just a bit when he pulls you towards him by your legs till your butt’s at the edge of the sofa-bed. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs with his pointy teeth, then runs his tongue over the spot as if to soothe it even though he didn’t bite you hard enough to require soothing. He repeats this pattern over every centimeter of your skin he can reach except for where you want him, then he pulls back a few inches and his warm breath against your clit makes you shiver. He’s definitely doing a good job of matching you in the teasing department so far. His hands slide up to spread your legs even further, then he apparently decides that he wants more access and before you know it your legs are over his shoulders and you twitch and gasp when at last his thick, silky tongue makes contact. He drags it up along the span of your sex in one slow lick, lingering on your clit before hardening his tongue to a point and circling it lightly around that little bundle of nerves. You hum in pleasure as he flattens his tongue once again and starts leisurely lapping at you like a cow at a salt lick, though the noises he’s making are much more porcine than bovine. Bubba always gets noisy - and sloppy - when he goes down on you, and fortunately he seems to really get off on it as well because his attentions to you now are already rapidly escalating in intensity, just as you hoped… but suddenly he pulls away and starts kissing your thighs again. Damn it. Apparently he has more self-control than you give him credit for. He’s stroking your legs with his hands as softly and carefully as if you were made of fine china, and the contrast between how tender he’s being now and how rough he was earlier is impressive. It’s like how he can smash someone’s skull in with one powerful hit, then remove and sew their skin back together with the utmost delicacy. He may be simple, but he’s certainly skilled at the things he needs to be skilled in - and at this point that includes driving you crazy.

His lips and hands are so, _so_ close to where you want them, and at last you’re frustrated enough to relinquish your pride. “Bubba, please… please just touch me and make me come, please,” you moan, and you swear you can feel him smiling against your skin. He makes a little squeal that just sounds happy rather than naughty or teasing - he’s probably thrilled that he finally got you to beg. Thankfully that’s all it takes to convince him to show you mercy and he starts eating you out in earnest, sending your eyes rolling back in your head and your heels digging into his back. “Bubba… that’s so good,” you whimper, tossing your head restlessly from side-to-side and squeezing his head more firmly between your thighs, and he grunts in return. Your praise seems to spur him on and he goes straight for your clit, and before he even adds his fingers your climax rears up and rushes through you. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries and hopefully keep from provoking Drayton’s wrath again - you really don’t need him to come into the room and see his brother’s head between your legs. You grind against Bubba’s face as best you can and he lets you, snorting and groaning and grasping your thighs even tighter as he tries to lick up every bit of wetness his efforts have coaxed from your hot, soaking cunt.

You push his head away when you can’t take anymore, and the sofa-bed squeaks noisily as he slides one of your legs off his shoulder and clambers back onto the mattress. He’s completely hard again just from licking your pussy, and possibly from humping the side of the mattress as well. You’re not really sure, you were too caught up in your own bliss to notice anything else. One of your legs is still stretched straight upwards over his shoulder as he kneels between your thighs, and it’s a good thing you’re flexible or your hamstring would definitely be getting pulled right now. He straddles your other leg that’s resting flat against the mattress - thankfully not settling his full weight down on you - and gets as close to your crotch as he can, then starts rutting against you. It seems he’s remembered what you said about no actual sex, but he’s doing his best to simulate it by using you to give himself a thigh job. That’s a first for you, and you wonder how good it could possibly feel for him to rub one out mostly dry since his dick isn’t all that slippery anymore… but it’s clearly working for him so you lay still and let him continue while you recover from your orgasm. He braces himself over you with one hand as he strokes your leg against his shoulder with his other, then he brings that hand to his mouth to lick his palm. He reaches down and you’re expecting him to start jerking himself off, but instead he rests his wet palm over his cock to press it between his hand and your thigh while continuing to thrust. Interesting. You decide to follow his lead and reach down to touch yourself as well, spreading your folds open with your fingertips and Bubba makes an animalistic noise between a grunt and a growl at the sight.

“Mmmm, look how wet you make me, baby… I can’t wait till we’re married and I can have you inside me again.” you murmur, and Bubba lets out a strained-sounding wheeze and ruts against you faster. He’s panting hard, and though you love his body the way it is you can’t help but giggle at the idea of him losing weight from all this extra cardio. It doesn’t take him long to finish, and he turns his head to press his open mouth against your up-stretched leg to muffle his squeals… sort of. He’s so loud that it doesn’t really help much, but at least he tried. His cum shoots out and lands on your belly and hip in thick, heavy ropes, making you touch yourself faster - though it’s really the look on his face and the way that his body goes tense and shakes when he comes that gets you going more than anything else. You gaze up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, watching his broad chest heave and his belly twitch as his semen streaks across your skin, his cock pulsing between his hand and your thigh. He’s so handsome, and once he recovers you tell him so.

“Bubba, you look so good… such a handsome, sexy man.”He keeps his head turned and makes a shy little squawk against your leg on his shoulder, lightening the pressure of his palm on his softening length before removing his hand completely and using it to stroke up towards your crotch to join yours. Then he starts licking your up-stretched calf like a mother cat would her kittens, and it’s so bizarre but so sweet at the same time - which sums Bubba up perfectly, you realize with a giggle. He slides his thumb along your slit beside your own fingers, then eventually pulls his mouth away from your leg to gaze at your face and your sex and everything in between, watching you with still-glassy, post-orgasm eyes. He starts talking to you, gibberish you don’t understand but that sounds sexy and loving all at once and it ramps up your arousal tenfold.

“B-Bubba,” you moan as you rub yourself faster, and when he answers with his version of your name in a low, throaty voice your climax hits you like a freight train. You arch up off the bed as you gasp and cry out his name, and Bubba groans and squeals at the sight and feel of your body convulsing beneath him. You’ve both forgotten to even _try_ to keep quiet at this point, and you’re still crying out and he’s still squealing when yet again Drayton’s angry voice echoes through the house:

“FER FUCK’S SAKE, QUIT FUCKIN’ OR I’M GONNA SHOVE A BROOM HANDLE UP BOTH YER ASSES AND _THEN_ WE’LL SEE HOW MUCH FUN YER HAVIN’!!”

Your orgasm ends with a breathless laugh, and Bubba giggles as well and rests more of his weight down on top of you - though still being careful not to squish you - to nuzzle his face against your heaving chest. You run your fingers through his hair as you catch your breath, scratching your nails lightly across his scalp and enjoying his affectionate, tired little noises. You’re exhausted yourself, and your earlier thoughts of many more orgasms tonight flies out the window. Five is quite a respectable number for one day, you decide, especially since tomorrow is a special day and it would be wise to get a good night’s sleep. After awhile Bubba shifts to your side and you turn to face him as well, snuggling in close and both resting your heads on the pillows so you can look one another in the eyes while lovingly caressing each other.

“Poor Drayton. Maybe if he wasn’t such a miserable old cuss someone would want to have a little fun with him, too.” you snicker. Bubba scrunches up his nose in an expression that can only mean disgust, and you snort out a laugh. Apparently thinking about his brother getting laid grosses him out, and you can’t say you disagree. But then his face relaxes and he looks thoughtful for a moment, then babbles something that sounds rather philosophical and you pledge to yourself that from this point on you’re going to spend just as much time working on his speech therapy as you do having sex - you want to know more of what’s happening in his mind as well as his body.

You don’t bother to clean up beyond just haphazardly wiping his semen off your skin with the corner of the sheet - your hygiene standards have decreased exponentially since being here, out of sheer necessity. You set the soiled fabric aside as Bubba takes you in his arms and holds you closer against him, and you comb your fingers through the hair on his chest and say, “I’m so excited for tomorrow. Are you excited, too?”

“Uh-huh!” he replies eagerly, pressing little kisses against the top of your head.

“I can’t wait to be your wife, Bubba. And I can’t wait for you to be my husband.” You can’t help but yawn that last part, your eyelids drooping as the sweet embrace of slumber begins settling down over you, and Bubba sighs happily in reply. Usually he passes out before you do each night, but this time you drift off to sleep in his arms while he hums what sounds like a soft little lullaby. You wonder if his mother or grandmother sang it to him when he was a boy. It’s slightly off-key, but it comes from the heart and it’s all for you. Just like he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's kind of a lot of cumplay recently, but I dunno, I just feel like Bubba would be into that. Maybe because of the cannibal thing? LOL!


	30. Chapter 30

The first thing you see when you open your eyes the next morning is Bubba’s face, only inches from yours and wearing the expression of a kid on Christmas morning who’s been up for hours and waiting in impatient agony for their parent to finally awaken so presents can be opened. “Morning’, babe,” you smile, and he grins so widely it looks like his face might split in half. He leans in to give you a kiss before nuzzling his cheek against yours, his overnight beard scratchy against your skin and his morning breath staggeringly bad - a consequence of sleeping with his mouth open, no doubt. But your breath certainly doesn’t smell like roses either, so you ignore it and give him a little peck on his stubbly cheek. “Lots to do today, huh?”

“Uh-huh!” he says excitedly. He’s almost always perky in the mornings, but now he looks like he’s about to burst from all the energy he’s been bottling up for however long he’s been waiting for you to wake up.

“Well then let’s get started,” you grin as you roll out of bed, and he grins right back and follows you.

 

“Good morning, grandpa!” you say cheerfully when you and Bubba go upstairs with the old mans breakfast and toileting equipment. Bubba babbles his usual greeting, but then goes on for a little bit longer than normal - perhaps he’s talking about the imminent wedding. “Today’s the big day!” you say at the risk of being redundant. “Bubba and I are going to spend all day getting ready, and this evening when Drayton comes home we’ll have the ceremony. It will be such an honor for you and grandma to attend.”

Bubba looks pleased as he always does when you show such respect to his grandparents, and once grandpa’s bodily needs are taken care of it’s decided that Bubba will come up later to help the old man change into his new shirt and tie that you bought him some time ago. You just wish you had something new for grandma, because despite the fact that she’s a corpse you know it would make Bubba happy.

 

Drayton flashes a grumpy glare at you both when you enter the kitchen to start getting the table set for breakfast, and you decide to take the respectful, apologetic approach with him this time rather than being snarky - you want him in as pleasant a mood as possible today. “I’m sorry about last night, Drayton. Bubba and I just couldn’t help it, we’re so excited to be married.” Before he can reply, Bubba babbles something apologetic-sounding as well and you attempt to translate: “Are you sorry about being noisy last night, too?” you guess, and he nods.

Drayton continues to glare at you both for another moment as he flips the eggs in the pan with the spatula, then finally grumbles, “With all that foolin’ around it’s a miracle you ain’t knocked up already.” You don’t feel like explaining your birth control status to him - he no doubt has old-fashioned ideas about such things - so you keep your mouth shut. He stays quiet as well until you all sit down to eat, then says rather abruptly: “If you two make an uncle outta me, you’d best believe them kids is gonna have’ta earn their keep, too. No free rides in this house.”

“Do you _want_ us to make you an uncle?” you can’t help but ask. You’re expecting him to snort and say something derisive, but instead his response surprises the hell out of you: his face twitches just a little and it seems like he’s trying hard not to smile… but eventually he loses the battle and a slightly sheepish grin manages to sneak out.

“Well, now… now I just don’t know. Kids’re expensive, but it might be nice to have a few little Sawyers runnin’ round… been a long time.”He sounds almost wistful and it’s actually really sweet. It’s the most tender you’ve ever seen him, and you wonder if he would be a bit more soft-hearted towards his potential nephews or nieces than he is towards his brothers. After all, he _is_ the one who brought up using you to keep the family line going last year. But then he wrecks the moment like usual by saying something mean to Bubba: “Especially if they ain’t as dumb as this nitwit. But at least they got a fightin’ chance of havin’ half a brain with you as their mama.”

Your previous plan to be respectful dissolves in an instant and you frown at him from across the table. “Well at least they won’t be mean, rude hardasses like you. They’ll be generous and sweet like their father.”Suddenly it dawns on you that you’re talking about these children as if they’re already planned, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because Bubba pats your knee as Drayton frowns right back at you.

 _“Someone_ ‘round here’s had to keep things runnin’ since grandpa had that stroke, and this fool and his idiot brother sure weren’t gonna do it. Had ta’ keep ‘em in line. Had to keep the family safe, and they sure as hell ain’t been no help.”

There’s more than just a hint of bitterness in his tone, and for the first time you think - really think - about what it must have been like for him to have two much younger siblings to take care of, especially ones with special needs like Bubba has - and like it sounds Nubbins may have had as well - on top of maintaining the family secrets. You guess that he’s about 25 to 30 years older than Bubba, so the prime years of Drayton’s youth were probably spent looking after and changing the diapers of kids that he didn’t even choose to have. It’s no excuse for the way his mistreats his brother, but you have few doubts that his life has been difficult. You’re not sure when grandpa apparently had a stroke nor how long grandma has been dead, and so far you haven’t heard a word about the missing middle generation of Sawyers. “What about your parents? Weren’t they around to help?” you ask.

His face twitches yet again, then he says stonily, “That don’t matter. Ain’t nothin’ worth talkin’ about.”

Something about the way he said it makes you understand that he’s not to be pressed further on the topic, at least not today, so you try to steer the conversation back in a more pleasant direction. “Well, you’ve got plenty of help now. If you want me to go get a job I’m happy to do it, and you already know I’m more than happy to help more around here, of course. I can make dinner so you don’t have to when you get home from the station. I’m a good cook, though I admit I’m not as good as you are.” You mean it sincerely, and happily he seems to accept your compliment as genuine because he looks considerably less irritated. “Speaking of cooking, I’d like to try and whip up a little something sweet for the wedding. May I please use some of the baking ingredients?” Bubba makes a happy little piglet squeal when his brother agrees, and Drayton gets progressively more amiable throughout the rest of breakfast until he’s actually giving you both a friendly wave as he gets into his truck and heads off to work with his usual warnings for you to stay out of trouble - including his standard threat of beating both of your hides raw if you don’t.

Once the breakfast mess is cleaned up you start work on your special wedding day treat. You’d learned some Depression-era cooking from your mother and grandmother, so you have an idea of how to make something edible from minimal ingredients. It’s a happy coincidence, since cooking with minimal ingredients is a necessity in the Sawyer household. You grab a chipped mixing bowl and a wooden spoon, then murmur out loud, “Let’s see… we need some milk.”

Bubba’s kept his old lady mask and apron on as he nearly always does when in the kitchen, and he immediately opens up the fridge to retrieve the bottle for you. Even though the recipe’s so simple that you really don’t need any help, you can tell by the energy he’s projecting and the way he’s hanging on your every move and word that he’s desperate to assist in any way he can. So you decide to let him fetch the ingredients while you put them all together and get the oven warming up.

“How about some flour?”

Bubba scurries over to the cupboard and pulls out a not-quite-airtight-looking container, then sets it on the counter beside you. You gingerly pry the lid open, praying that there aren’t bugs inside… and fortunately there aren’t. “And surely we must have some eggs,” you say as you add the flour to the milk in your bowl, and he instantly goes back to the fridge and pulls out an entire dozen. “Just three will do, thank you babe,” you smile at him, but he just keeps holding the whole dozen out to you… then it occurs to you that he might not be able to count. So you select three eggs yourself, counting them out loud in case it will help him learn. Baking powder, salt and sugar all go into the bowl as well, and while a little splash of vanilla would really top it off either there’s none in the kitchen or Bubba just doesn’t know what it is or where to find it. “That’s alright, it’ll taste great anyway!” you say cheerfully so he won’t feel bad about missing an ingredient, and the little cake goes into the oven.

Once it’s on the cooling rack on the counter, it’s time for flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. You and Bubba spend hours cutting and arranging the various flowers from the garden into bouquets and chains, as well as corsages for you and grandma and boutonnieres for the men. There are plenty of crafting supplies on the worktable to allow you to get creative, and Bubba turns out to have quite an eye for putting together lovely combinations. He makes an intricate chain of flowers to weave throughout the bars of his pet hen’s cage, but she begins pecking at it so doggedly that she’ll no doubt wreck it long before the ceremony. So it’s agreed upon to add it just before the wedding actually starts. Chains and bunches of flowers are attached to the front porch every way you can get them to stay, and you’re just finishing up when Drayton’s truck comes rattling down the driveway. You and Bubba have been working so hard that the time has passed quickly, though he’s also a little bit earlier coming home than normal.

“Well now, I reckon that don’t look too bad,” he says as he approaches the porch.

“Good!” Bubba agrees, and you grin as well and say:

“Thanks! What’ve you got there?”

He shuffles the brown paper sack in his arms. “Thought I’d bring home a little somethin’ special for dinner since you say you made dessert. Got some whiskey and a couple steaks.” You’re completely shocked, both at his jovial mood and generosity. You’re about to ask how he managed to scrounge up the money, but then he adds, “Borrowed the money outta the station till. We’ll just have you pay that back when we go to the bank at the end of the month, eh?”

“Absolutely.” you agree with a smile.

 

When you go back inside you take Bubba’s hand. “I think we should get dressed now, do you agree? And we’re not supposed to see each other till right before the ceremony, okay? That way it’s a surprise. So let’s pick out what we’re gonna wear and then get dressed in different rooms. I’ll bring your chicken outside and you can get grandpa and grandma ready. Sound good?”Bubba nods excitedly and squeezes your hand, then hurries to his bucket of masks and box of jewelry and makeup to collect whatever he’s planning to adorn himself with. He grabs his new suit and tie, then gives you a quick kiss before shuffling out of the living room and up the stairs. You reach for the skirt and blouse you had chosen, but before you can strip Drayton suddenly enters the room with a bunch of fabric in his arms.

“Well, uh, I got somethin’ for ya’ to wear if you like. Ain’t nothin’ fancy, but I reckon you’ll look mighty pretty in it.”

Your jaw just about hits the floor. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but you’re certainly not going to question it. “Okay, that sounds great,” you reply, and he hands you a very, _very_ old-fashioned dress, something that looks like an older woman would have worn to church several decades ago. The floral pattern is definitely not to your taste, but the shape of it is simple and classic and looks like it might be flattering to your figure.

“Belonged to grandma,” Drayton says, and you’re incredibly moved.

“Thank you, it’s lovely,” you answer sincerely.

He nods and gives you that weird, nervous smile of his, then leaves the room. You put on the dress, and though it’s a bit too large it fits well enough. You carefully apply your makeup in a light, natural - but still very pretty - look. Anything too gaudy won’t fit with the dress, though you do put on the big sparkly earrings Bubba gave you months ago. Drayton compliments you when you join him in the kitchen where he’s prepping the steaks, and together you move two chairs out onto the porch for grandma and grandpa when Bubba brings them downstairs. Even Nubbins will be attending - what was left of his bones have been stripped clean and are now being stored in a butchers paper lined wooden crate that stays in the living room. It creeped you out for awhile, but you’ve long since gotten used to being surrounded by bones, both of strangers and family. Bubba’s chicken goes out onto the porch next, along with her flowery cage adornments. Drayton shakes his head and mutters about how you and Bubba are two ridiculous birds of a feather for dressing up a chicken cage and bringing it to a wedding, but then says, “But I guess that’s why you two fools get along so well, ain’t it.”

A loud squeal echoes from upstairs. Drayton goes up to see what the fuss is, then hollers down at you that Bubba and his grandparents are ready. “We’re comin’ down now, you go hide in the bathroom or somethin’, can’t let the groom see the bride till we’re all set!”

“Alright!” you holler back with a giggle. Drayton really seems to be getting in the spirit of things and you’re grateful for it - and you also hope nothing will set off his hair-trigger of a temper. You hear the sound of people going up and down the stairs several times, including Bubba’s new cowboy boots. After awhile Drayton yells from outside the bathroom door that they’re ready for you, so out to the front porch you go.

The sun is just beginning to set and it gives everything a warm, amber, magical glow. Even though legally nothing is changing, butterflies are still fluttering chaotically in your stomach as you walk through the brand-new front door and push open the screen. You step over a big chain of flowers that had fallen from where it was hung somewhat tenuously from the porch ceiling and find Bubba, Drayton and grandpa all looking at you - and grandma’s corpse and Nubbins’s crate of bones facing you as well. It appears that Bubba managed to find a ratty-looking old mink stole for grandma to wear on this special occasion, and both she and grandpa have large corsages and boutonnieres respectively. Bubba’s also placed an absolutely huge bouquet of flowers in Nubbins’s crate, and you hold in a giggle. Grandpa’s in his new shirt and tie and looking a bit more alert than he usually does, and even Drayton looks like he tried to clean up a bit above and beyond his normal look. Bubba’s wearing his pretty girl mask, the one that you saw him construct so long ago and to which you applied the makeup. You can’t see much of his face until you get closer to him, but you can still tell that he’s practically vibrating with excitement. You stand beside him and give him a grin, meeting his bright, joyful eyes beyond the eyeliner-rimmed holes in the dead girl’s skin. “You look so handsome, Bubba. So pretty,” you compliment him, and he replies with a happy squeal and excited gibberish.

“Alright, shut yer mouths so we can get on with it,” Drayton says loudly, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. He’s holding the family Bible but not reading from it, instead reciting a mishmash of generic wedding-sounding phrases he’s probably heard sometime in the past or on the radio. You wonder what the point of having it is, but aren’t about to interrupt. “Do you, Jedidiah Bubba Sawyer Jr. take this lady to be yer wife?” he finally says, and Bubba nods and babbles for much longer than it takes to say a simple _“I do”_ as he places the flower crown he made for you on top of your head. It’s the first time you’ve heard Bubba’s entire name, and you find yourself thoroughly charmed. You’ll ask him later if he’d rather you call him by his first name. Drayton then poses the same question to you.

“I do.” you answer decisively, and when you look up into your friend and lovers big, brown eyes you find them brimming with tears. He bends so you can reach to place the flower crown you made for him on his head as well, and when he stands up straight again you take his hand in your own. He’s shaking a bit… or perhaps it is you who is trembling. Probably both.

“Get the ring, Bubba.” Drayton orders, and Bubba shoves one hand in his jacket pocket and begins fumbling around. You’re a little surprised, but suppose you really shouldn’t be - he loves giving you jewelry, after all. He pulls his hand out of his pocket again and reaches for your hand, but then you see a little sparkly flash as the ring slips from his trembling fingers and lands on the porch, bouncing several times before rolling under grandpa’s chair. “Damn it, Bubba!” Drayton snaps, but before he or Bubba can freak out too much you pull your dress up past your knees and kneel down to grope around beneath the chair.

“Found it, no harm done!” you announce with a grin as you get back to your feet, and Bubba starts patting and stroking you all over your shoulders, arms and back while making apologetic and grateful-sounding noises. You give him a reassuring smile and pat his arm in return. “Don’t worry about it, honey. Just make me your wife.”You see his worried eyes turn misty and loving as you place the ring in his upturned palm. It’s a gold band with a small diamond in an old-fashioned, but very beautiful setting, and it miraculously fits you perfectly when Bubba finally manages to get it on your outstretched finger. “It’s so beautiful,” you say sincerely.

“Been in the family for generations,” Drayton announces with more than just a little pride in his voice, and you’re once again deeply touched by this symbol of being truly accepted as part of the family. “Now get the other one,” he adds, and Bubba reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a second ring. This one has a row of tiny diamonds set into the gold band and is threaded on a silver chain. “Didn’t have one big enough for his fat fingers,” Drayton says unhelpfully, but you ignore him as Bubba bends down so you can fasten the chain around his neck.

“I now announce you man and wife. You can kiss the bride, but keep it decent.” Drayton says sternly, and you can’t help but giggle. Bubba giggles as well, and you raise yourself up on your tiptoes as he leans down once again to meet you, but then find yourself wrapped in his arms as he lifts you right off of the porch. You end up kissing the dry, leathery skin of the dead girl since his mouth is mostly covered in this particular mask, and Bubba clucks in annoyance before shifting your weight to hold you with one arm so he can unlace and remove it with his other. He drops the mask onto his pet chicken’s flower-adorned cage and you giggle at his messed up hair before meeting his lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. You keep the tongue action to a minimum to avoid provoking Drayton’s wrath, and when you feel that Bubba’s getting a little too excited you pull away. But oh how you’re looking forward to consummating your marriage later tonight.

Drayton gets dinner cooking while you set the table and Bubba brings Nubbins, his grandparents and chicken back inside. This time everyone sits at the table, his chicken and dead brother and grandma included, and dinner is about as pleasant as it’s ever been since you got here. The steaks are exquisite, as is the whiskey, and your simple little cake turned out quite nicely as well. You don’t drink too much so it won’t affect your upcoming roll in the sofa-bed, and happily Bubba follows your lead even though his libido is so strong you doubt that being drunk would slow him down. Once dinner is done you help your new brother-in-law clean up as Bubba returns his grandparents upstairs and Nubbins and his chicken to the living room. She’s finally stopped pecking at her flower adornments since Bubba put the gristle and fat from all of your steaks and a small bit of cake in her cage. The rest of the evening is spent with you and Bubba snuggling as close together as Drayton will tolerate while you all three listen to the radio. Not long before bedtime, Drayton surprises the hell out of you yet again by announcing he’s going back to the station for the night to give you and Bubba some privacy. “This is the closest to a honeymoon you two’er gonna get, so you best make the most of it.” he says grumpily, but you can tell he’s not really annoyed. You thank him and give him a quick little peck on his cheek before he shoos you away, but he looks a bit bashful and for the first time you can see a hint of resemblance between him and his brother. You and Bubba wave from the flowery front porch as the taillights of his truck recede into the darkness, and once they’re gone completely you head back inside the house together as husband and wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, sorry this chapter took so long! Summertime is busy for me, but while I haven't had time to really sit down and crank out the words I've always squeezed in a few sentences or two on one story or the other each day. Hopefully it was worth the wait, and hopefully it won't be as long till the next update. :)


	31. Chapter 31

Neither you nor Bubba waste any time once you’re finally alone. He follows along as you light plenty of candles to give the room a romantic glow, and you giggle and squirm as he reaches around to squeeze your waist with his big hands and nuzzles his face against the back of your neck. The second you set down the lighter you turn around in his embrace to gently squeeze the pudge of his waist as well, drawing a giggle from him. He leans down for a kiss, one of his hands straying from your waist to run his fingertips along the golden band around your finger. You know he likes jewelry, but you suspect that at this moment he’s enjoying the meaning behind this particular piece more than the way it looks or feels.

“It’s so nice of your brother to let us have the house to ourselves tonight. Though I guess he’s my brother now, too, isn’t he?” you murmur against Bubba’s lips, and he squawks quietly and nods, rubbing the tips of your noses together. He’s getting handsier by the second, but there’s something you want to ask before things get too hot and heavy. “Oh, by the way, honeybear, do you want me to keep calling you Bubba? Or do you like Jedidiah better?”He babbles something and you realize you didn't pose the question in a way he can answer to make you understand. So you try again. “Jedidiah?”He shakes his head.“Bubba?”He nods, and you’re secretly glad because while Jedidiah is a nice enough name, it sounds rather Biblical for a murdering cannibal and a bit too formal for such a soft, somewhat childlike man. Plus you’re quite attached to the name _“Bubba”_ by now - it just fits him better.

“Good to know,” you say with a smile, your free hand trailing lower to grope at his butt. He lets out a little squeal and releases your hand so he can pull you closer to him, groping your butt right back and you feel the steadily growing bulge between his legs pressing into your belly. “I’ve been so wet for you all day, Bubba, just thinking about making love with my husband.” you say in your most sultry voice, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch in his pants as he groans and clutches your backside just a little bit tighter. It’s the truth - your panties have been soaked through since right after breakfast, your body wanton and ripe for his touch beneath the modest Sunday dress that you’re currently wearing. Though he still looks incredibly aroused, he gets that dreamy look on his face that he always does when you use the phrase _“making love”_ and it melts your heart. Was there ever a man as sweet as he is?

You reach for his hands and pull them up to the buttons at the front of your dress. “Unbutton them, please,” you request, and he does. The little plastic disks are dwarfed by his fingers and despite the fact that he’s undressed you before, his hands are shaking. It takes him awhile, but at last the dress slips from your shoulders and drops to the floor - and his eyes widen in surprise when he sees what you’re wearing beneath it: you’ve been saving the sheer, silky chemise you bought during your trip to the department store for a special occasion, and what could be more special than your wedding night? You can practically see his pupils dilating as he runs his hands lightly over your shoulders and arms, then back up to fondle the thin, lacy straps of the lingerie - it appears that he does indeed like it as much as you suspected he would when you bought it. “Do you like it?” you ask anyway and he nods, licking his teeth repeatedly. He looks like he wants to eat you right up, but not in the bad way and it makes your heartbeat quicken. “Oh good, I hoped that you would. I bought it just for you.”

“Good,” he murmurs, softly petting your chest through the thin, silky fabric as you reach up to loosen his tie. “Pretty. Pretty, pretty…” he repeats over and over, his eyes locked on your breasts as he pinches your nipples till they’re jutting against the chemise in hard little peaks.

“What’s your favorite way to make love so far, honey? Will you show me, please?” you ask sweetly as you pull his tie out from beneath the collar of his shirt with a swish and drop it to join your dress on the floor. Bubba seems thrilled with everything that you do together, but you’re curious if there’s a position and intensity that he particularly likes. He nods and gives you a kiss before picking you up off the ground as if you weigh nothing and setting you down on the sofa-bed so carefully that it almost breaks your heart. You watch as he finishes undressing before you and take a moment to reflect on how far he’s come in regards to his confidence - when you first became intimate he was scared of you seeing his body - hell, he was scared of you seeing his _face_ \- but these days he doesn’t hesitate to lay himself bare for you. Once he’s completely naked he reaches between your legs to tug lightly at your panties, and you lift your hips to help him pull them down your legs and off. You’re already shivering with anticipation, wondering what he’s going to do next as he crawls onto the sofa-bed to lay by your side… then he carefully pulls you on top of him so you’re straddling his waist with his erection nestled snugly against your ass beneath the silky fabric of the chemise. He strokes his hands all over your thighs and hips, touching you gently and looking up at you with big, soft eyes.

“You like it when I’m on top, honey?” you ask and he nods, looking slightly bashful. You wonder if he’ll ever lose that little bit of shyness he has with you, and you hope that he won’t because it’s unbelievably cute. “I like that too,” you murmur, leaning forward to meet him for a kiss. When you sit back up again you’re about to ask him to get you ready with his fingers, but he grips your hips a bit tighter and urges you up towards his chest instead. Of course. “Do you want to use your mouth with me on top?”He nods eagerly and you reach down to stroke his cheek and hair as you scoot further up his chest. “You’re such a gentleman, honey, always taking care of me and making sure I’m ready for you. Thank you.” you praise him and he squeals softly, then lifts you the rest of the way up and settles you back down on his face, the chemise pooling around his head. You sigh as he laps at you hungrily and squeezes your ass with both hands, and you bring your own hands down to pull the fabric away from his face and play with his hair the way you know he loves. He was already good at this on his very first attempt, but now he’s an expert and he wastes no time in bringing you to a gasping, shuddering climax - it seems he prefers to get right down to business rather than extended teasing like the previous night.

“Mmm, that was wonderful, you’re so incredible at that. You’re so good to me, honey.” you murmur as you sit back down on his chest, and he smiles happily as he licks his plump, shiny lips. You kiss the still-wet tip of his nose and ask, “Will you show me how you want me to move while I make love to you, please? I want to know how you like it the best.”

He nods with that lovestruck look on his face as you scoot further down his body, and you give him a smile as you raise yourself up over his bobbing erection. You reach beneath the chemise to take his hard length in one hand, then use your other to spread your folds and guide him slowly inside of your wet, waiting core. You both moan in tandem as his flesh parts your own, and once he’s fully inside you just sit still for a moment to adjust to his girth stretching your walls.

“Mmm, Bubba, you’re so big and _thick_ , you fill me up just right… you feel so good inside me…” you hum as he whimpers nonsense words and caresses your thighs, and when you give him the go-ahead he raises you up by your hips till he nearly slips out before dropping you slowly back down to take him in fully again. His breathing is shallow and quick, and he gazes up at you for only a few seconds before he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you on his lap and you gasp at the changing angle of his hard cock inside you. He tugs lightly at the chemise while staring at your chest and you can only assume that while he likes it, he’d prefer to see you without it right now. “You want me to take this off?” you ask and he nods, rubbing the silky fabric between his fingertips and still staring at your chest and you give him a teasing little smile. “Well go ahead, honeybear.”

He looks a little nervous - most likely about accidentally ruining the delicate garment - but he carefully pulls it up over your head and you raise your arms to assist him. He tosses it aside and his hands go straight to your breasts to gently squeeze and caress them, and you sigh and rub your own hands along his strong arms and shoulders. You graze your fingertips feather-light against the hair on his arms and chest, feeling the goosebumps raise on his flesh as he whimpers and squirms. Then you squeeze your cunt around him and he groans and reclines fully back on the sofa-bed, trailing his palms from your chest down over your ribcage and waist to stroke along your thighs. His soft touch makes you shiver, as does the expression of ecstasy on his face as you clench around him again and he lifts you up once more, your slick walls squeezing and dragging along his length. He mewls and moans and licks his teeth, and through your own distracted arousal you wait for him to start going faster or harder… but he just keeps moving you gently and slowly, occasionally changing the rhythm and vacillating between raising you up and sitting you back down fully, then rocking you against him while buried as deep inside of you as he can get.

“You like to be gentle?” you ask after a moment, starting to get the idea.

“Uh-huh,” he breathily confirms, and when you ask if you can start doing the work he happily submits.

“Let me take care of you, Bubba, please. I want to make you feel so good,” you murmur, and he whines and nods while looking up at you as if you were an angel descended from heaven. He rubs and gently pats his hands against you everywhere he can reach as you ride him, and it doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting his hips up slightly to meet you. “Would you like it a little faster now, honey?”He nods, so you speed up a bit while still remaining gentle. He’s panting hard now, his eyes glazed over with pleasure and love, and right at this moment you feel like the luckiest woman alive to have such a man between your thighs. “Oh Bubba…” you sigh, “You’re so handsome and sweet… I’m so lucky you’re my husband…”He closes his eyes in rapture as his hands return to your hips to control your movements once more, grinding you harder against him as he begins to squeal.

“Yeah, baby, let me hear you, let me feel you come inside of me… show me how good you feel,” you moan, caressing him from his belly to his chest and then up to toy with his wedding ring on the chain around his neck, and he starts squealing louder. His thrusts become faster and more needy, bucking erratically up into your wet heat as he whines and squeals and grunts like a pig. It feels so good, and if you were to touch your clit right now you would come within seconds, but you want to watch him finish first this time. You don’t have to wait long. “Such a good boy, so good to me…” you praise him, and Bubba makes a loud, desperate-sounding noise as he sits partway up again and pulls you down to meet him, holding you tightly in his arms while he quivers and shakes and spills deep inside you.

 

He pants against your neck and you press little kisses against his hair, giving him as much time as he needs to come back to his senses. Like always, he stays inside of you as he begins to soften and once he’s recovered his breath enough to speak he begins mumbling to you in his own unintelligible little language, something tender and loving with your name mixed in. Warm cum oozes from your opening and clings to your lips when he finally slips out, and you both moan at the loss of him filling you. Bubba keeps holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world, and you would happily let him continue doing so until you both fall asleep… but you’re aching and swollen between your own legs, needing his thick cock inside you again to find your release.

Luckily for you, Bubba has a short refractory period and in what seems like no time you feel him growing hard against you once more as you wiggle on top of him. “I loved that so much, honey. Was it good for you?”Bubba nods and babbles something earnest-sounding in return before raising his head to give you a kiss. “Can I show you my favorite way to make love now? It feels like you’re ready,” you say with a grin, and he grins right back and nods even more enthusiastically. “I love everything we do together,” you murmur as you swing your leg till you’re no longer straddling him, “But so far I especially love it when you’re on top, nice and gentle and holding me close so I can feel how strong you are.”Bubba squeals and immediately climbs over you before you’re even flat on your back yet, lavishing you with slightly-sloppy kisses as he gets you both into position. He gives himself a few quick strokes before rubbing the pink, engorged head of his cock against your slit, then pushes ever-so-slowly between your sex-swollen lips. You spread your legs wider and moan as he fills you, stuffing his semen in deeper and no-doubt smearing it all over your cervix with the bulbous head of his cock. Once he’s balls-deep inside you he rests on his elbows and gathers you up to hold you as close to his body as he can, waiting for you to tell him to start moving. You feel so safe, so protected, so _loved_ when he’s above you, and you wonder if he feels the same way when he’s beneath you.

“My strong, handsome man… my big, gentle teddy bear… you make me feel so good, so safe…” you sigh as he holds you more tightly still and mumbles into your hair. He begins slow, deep, gentle thrusts at your request, and you use your arms and legs and soft, breathy moans to guide him. “Oh Bubba, oh God, just like that baby, it’s so good, just like that… oh God, please don’t stop, please, please…” you whimper and he obeys, grunting and gasping and rolling his pelvis to plunge in to the hilt, his soft belly rubbing against yours and the tip of his cock pressing into that sweet spot deep inside you. Each pump of his hips brings you closer to the edge, and at last you can’t draw it out any longer. “Faster, Bubba… Bubba… please…” you beg and he complies, his balls smacking against your ass and the wet slap of his dick plunging into your cunt growing louder and ever more obscene. “I need you… to hold still… when I come… baby, please…” you plead between gasps, reaching down to circle your clit with your fingertips in time with his thrusts. His eyes squeeze shut as he pants harder and grunts louder, and you wonder if he’s so caught up in his bliss that he’ll forget to do as you ask… but you couldn’t be more wrong. The pitch of your cries gets higher as you rub yourself harder, and when he pistons into your sopping cunt even faster you shatter beneath him with a series of loud, keening wails. He holds still as you clench around his throbbing member, letting you use him for your pleasure and he squeals in excitement - and probably at the effort of not coming himself. He holds you even closer somehow in his strong, hairy arms as you thrash against his body, and you’re completely overwhelmed by his size and his scent and the noises he’s making. It’s so good. _He’s_ so good. You’ve never been as satisfied in your entire life as you are with him and your orgasm ends in a sob and a quick trip to heaven.

He remains sheathed deep inside you as your spasms subside, hard and no-doubt aching with need as he gives you hot, sloppy kisses against your panting mouth. You slowly come back down to earth… but you’re not quite ready to have your feet touch the ground just yet. You’re still tingling with even more unleashed electricity - as is he - and it seems very likely you’ll come again right away if he fucks you just a bit harder. “Your turn again, baby. Can you be a little bit more rough this time, please?”He earnestly nods and licks his lips, and you appreciate that he’s making an effort not to drool on your face. “Be a good boy and fill me up with your cum again, Bubba, please.” you say sweetly, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. He squeals in excitement and starts rutting into you at a breakneck pace - it seems while he likes being gentle the most, he’s most certainly not opposed to being a bit rougher. It’s exactly what you need and you rub your clit harder, then gasp in ecstasy when he hunches his back so he can nibble little love bites into your throat. You dig the fingers of your free hand into the sweaty flesh of his back, feeling his muscles flex as he bucks into you faster. He doesn’t last long, but it’s just long enough for you. His pelvis jerks three more times, then he howls and goes stiff as his orgasm hits. Every muscle in his huge body tightens and you feel his cock pulsing inside you with each spurt of thick, warm cum he releases, and it triggers your own climax. He bellows and squeals as you writhe beneath him, drowning out your own hoarse cries as wave after wave of clenching, mind-numbing pleasure washes through you and stars explode behind your tightly-closed eyes.

 

Bubba collapses on top of you when you both finally finish, though he’s careful not to crush you. You both rest for awhile, catching your breath as he nuzzles his slightly-sweaty face gently against your breasts and sighs contentedly while you run your fingers through his thick, dark waves. You feel so content and blissful yourself, which still manages to surprise you every once in awhile. It’s been one hell of a strange journey getting to this point: unofficially - but happily - married to a man who kidnapped you, who kills and eats people and sometimes wears their faces. Who’s simple and a little bit slow, but also generous and sweet. Who’s the best damn lover you’ve ever had, and who you know beyond a doubt loves you more than life itself… and who you love as well. And it’s high time you told him so.

“I love you so much, Bubba, you know that?” you murmur.

He actually starts crying, and not just a little bit, either - within seconds he’s full-on sobbing and you don’t know what to say. You know by now that he’s quite a sensitive soul and he’s come close to crying several times since you became intimate, but you still weren’t expecting quite this strong of a reaction to those three little words. Your heart breaks realizing that he’s probably never had them spoken to him before. “Shhh,” you say soothingly, stroking his hair as he ugly-cries into your chest. “It’s true, honeybear, I really do love you. Do you love me, too?”He nods and babbles something through his sobs, smearing tears - and probably some snot - against your skin. Oh well, it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever had on you, and his pure, raw emotion is starting to make you tear up as well.“Shhhh,” you soothe him again. “Oh honey… sweetheart, darling…” You’re trying to calm him down, but each endearment only makes him cry harder so you shut up and just hold him for awhile, letting him feel and work through his emotions.

“Shhh, it’s okay Bubba, there you go,” you say as his shuddering sobs begin to soften and slow. You take his face in your hands and gently tilt it up to meet yours, his eyes red-rimmed and watery and tears still trailing down his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumbs, and he manages to reach up one hand and wipe the tear from your own cheek that you didn’t even realize was there. You smile at him, but he looks like he might start bawling again so you try to inject a little humor into the situation: “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m so glad you hit me on the head. And I’m even more glad that you didn’t eat me.” You give him a grin and are pleased when he smiles back. He sniffles a bit, and then hiccups - loudly.

You can’t help it, you let out an affectionate laugh. Fortunately he laughs as well, then hiccups again. “Let me get you some water, love,” you offer, and he nods a bit shyly as you give him a little kiss on the forehead before rolling off of the mattress. First you head to the bathroom to pee and clean yourself up a bit, then get a glass of water from the kitchen before joining him in bed again. When you return he’s sitting up against the pillows and has calmed down enough by now that he’s not crying anymore. You snuggle up beside him after handing him the glass, sighing contentedly once again and draping your arm over his warm, furry belly. Once he finishes the water he sets the glass aside and wraps you up in his arms, making affectionate little noises - and occasionally hiccuping - while nuzzling his face against the top of your head. IUD’s aren’t 100% fail-proof, and if yours happens to fail, well… that would be just fine. You were due to have it replaced with a new one next year… but now you’re thinking that maybe you won’t. After all, you’ll need someone to run the farm while you and Bubba grow old together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, and especially for all your kudos and kind comments and encouragement throughout this nearly 6-month journey! This was incredibly fun to write, and hearing from folks who enjoyed it as well made it all the more fun. A huge, Bubba-sized thank you to you all! :D
> 
> If you're reading this story after it's finished, I hope you'll still take the time to let me know if you liked it. It means so much to us authors to hear from satisfied readers, even on older fics.
> 
> In the meantime, I'm still working on the companion piece to this story: "Deep In The Heart of Texas - The Other Side", which is the same saga, but from Bubba's point of view. When I started this story I didn't quite have a feel for how I wanted to portray his thought process and feelings, but by the time I was a few chapters in I began to regret not including his perspective. So if you'd like to know what was going on in his head this whole time, I do hope you'll go check it out.  
> Thank you again! <3


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